And You Think It's Just A Birdbath

Putting little fingers in a birdbath may sound simple yet to a child looking at and feeling the water trickling down her fingers it opens her curious mind to imaginative possibilities and unending questions.

Just what is this stuff? Why does it move down my things called fingers and fall to the ground-and then where does whatever it is go? Why does this stuff feel like it does and why can't I hold it like I do my favorite blanket or mommy's hand? Why does this stuff move around like it does when I put my fingers in it and why does it go all over the place-including me-when I move my fingers faster and then put one hand in it and then the other hand and move them faster and faster-in a circle and then up and down-even faster-so fast that I can hardly breath because the stuff gets in my eyes and I can't see and that stuff on my head called hair is wet as are my clothes and I feel chilly as the summer breeze passes me by. Yet whenever I am able to catch my breath I laugh and giggle-still with my eyes shut and still with my fingers and hands going so fast that surely I will fly way up high like those pretty things with wings dancing around that place I hear called a garden. And just when there isn't much stuff left to splash in and the breeze makes me a bit chillier but I can't stop what I am doing, I feel someone picking me up and hugging me, wrapping me up in something that smells like those things Mommy calls flowers that are all colors and grow in that garden.

Hmmm-maybe when I get back outside I will go check out those flowers that are all colors growing in the garden. I will play in that box full of sand stuff and fill my trucks and pails with it and make piles and knock them over and make castles and live in them-fighting off monsters until my blue swing hanging from the thing called a tree branch catches my eye. Then Mommy will strap me inside it and I will soar way up high-laughing every time my head brushes those green things hanging from the branch.

And to think-we adults think it's just a birdbath-just water-just fingers-just hair-just butterflies-just a garden-just a towel-just flowers-just a sandbox-just a tree branch-just leaves.

Take the time to find the Wonder around you. It's still there-just ask a child!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Pinch of This and A Dash of That

Image
I recently made a few Raspberry Pies following my grandmother's recipe that is included in a cookbook featuring her recipes. It was put together by her oldest daughter. One of six daughters. I love using her recipes. They are quite simple. Basic. Born out of an era of raising a family on a farm where meals were homemade, and work and chores were nonstop and produce came from the garden, some of that produce eventually canned or stored in a root cellar. In a few of my grandmother's recipes, her instructions include words such as a pinch, a dash, a sprinkle or a hint as ways of measurement of certain ingredients. In the Raspberry Pie recipe, her instruction was to add a pinch of salt. Before, when coming upon that particular instruction, I would put a little bit of salt in a bowl or on a plate and take a pinch of it. Then add the pinch to the other ingredients. But this time I was curious. For whatever the reason, I asked Mr. Google what the instruction for a Pinch of an ingredie
Read more

Those Small Milk Cartons With Straws

Image
I can't remember what elementary grade I was in when taking a morning break to enjoy a small, sometimes cold and sometimes not so cold small container of whole milk with my classmates. The Milk Break was part of the daily schedule. I do remember how good it tasted. The milk didn't come in flavors. Not even chocolate. There was no fat free or calcium enriched or soybean milk. Just whole milk in individual cartons.  The cartons were either opened by the teacher and then the student put a straw into the milk or there was a sealed hole in the carton and either the student or teacher pushed a straw through the hole. Straws were not fancy or colored. They did not have brand names or licensed characters on them. They did not have loops, making it possible to watch the milk go around the loops as a student sucked on the straw. They did not come wrapped in cellophane attached to the carton.  Instead, the teacher would walk around each table full of students, stopping beside each student
Read more

Oh Those Netted Crinolines

Image
I hardly ever wore crinolines under my skirts way back when wearing crinolines underneath skirts was the fad. Not participating in a fad was unusual for me. After all, I ran to a department store located in the downtown of where I lived  the moment Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe" grabbed my attention. I had to have bellbottoms and short-sleeved ribbed sweaters. I had to grow my hair down to my waist. But crinolines were a different story. I didn't like all of that netting. I didn't like my skirts pushed way out in front of me even when most of my friends wore crinolines all the time.  However, there are most always exceptions to most anything-even when it comes to wearing crinolines if crinolines aren't your thing. For me, that exception  came when my grandmother made me a velvet green dress to wear to a Christmas party. It was going to be held in a grand old hotel in that downtown where I lived. My date was a Freshman at a nearby college. He was so cute. We
Read more