Even the Smallest Things
Childhood is a time of Wonder and Curiosity of even the smallest things. Growing up in the country, my cousins and I were provided endless opportunities for both. There was a creek full of suckers where our rafts made from telephone poles took us on journeys around the world; an old barn whose hay lofts provided us cover from evil doers; an abandoned chicken coop turned into a clubhouse filled with old desks, chalkboards, and books and so much more feeding our imaginations every single day we went outside to play-and that was most every day. I love this picture of my granddaughter as she discovers water in the birdbath. I find myself wondering what she is thinking of that stuff trickling down her little fingers. Does she wonder what makes that stuff move when she splashes it around? Does she even notice that it takes her breath away when her splashing becomes nonstop and her face and hair and everything she is wearing beco...