Today we went outside, like we have so many times before. But today was different. It was raining and muddy, but you wanted to escape the house. You needed out. You were persistent. So, we went outside.
I thought you’d be disappointed. I thought sitting in the grass might make you cry when you felt the cold, wet ground under you. I thought the fact that I made you wear a coat and hat might upset you. I was wrong. I didn’t see any of that.
I did see you pick a single blade of grass and study it. I saw you move it from one hand to the other. I saw you toss it and watch it fall. I saw you experimenting.
I saw you waving hello to the trees. How do you even know they’re alive? I saw you spot a bird on a limb and crawl closer, head tilted back to see way up high, rain hitting you right in the face. I heard you say, “tweet tweet”. I saw you making connections in nature.
I saw you pick up a leaf. You pushed its stem into the palm of your hand. You twisted it between your finger and thumb. You watched it spin around. You noticed the wet marks it made when you pressed it against your jacket. You started doing this over and over, creating a pattern. I saw you exploring with art.
I saw you dig a hole in the mud, place a toy in, and cover it up. I watched you pat the spot. Then you noticed the indentions your hand was making. I saw you smooth the surface of the mud out once again. I saw you gardening.
You do a million brilliant things every day. They are tiny things, but they are also huge.