picture by Sam, today at the pond

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain harvest; keep us here

All simply in the springing of the year.

{Robert Frost, Prayer in Spring}

I kept thinking of this poem (admittedly just bits and pieces of it) as Sam and I spent the morning, thanks to a teacher work day at the elementary school, walking around Walden Pond and, later, riding bikes around our neighborhood. Spring is at its fullest today, this very minute. All the tulips and blossoms and popping buds are at their peak color and form. Another few hours, it feels like, and it will be lesser, wilted spring. On her way to summer.

Sam feels like that to me, too, these days. I'd like to keep him here in the springing of his life, just preserve this version of him for a while longer. I can't think of anything I don't like about his nine-and-a-half-year-old self. He's curious. He's funny. He's handsome in an awkward, big tooth hatching, unselfaware way. He wears his emotions right out in front, practically pinned to his shirt. He's game for whatever comes his way (except maybe too much time in the car). And everything about life is interesting to him...everything! I'm sometimes startled by the topics that are running around his head when he suddenly gives me a view in there. Here are some random topics that came up out of the blue during our walk. We'd be walking along in a companionable silence and he would burst out with: