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24 September 2014 @ 12:50 pm
The Story Tree  
Joshua ran to grab his net as he anticipated a bout of crawdad hunting, and I drove us to the nearby forested park. We walked to our favorite spot by the creek and found an old man smoking on the bank and yelling at his dog. He kept trying to talk to us, but we just wanted him to go away. He finally did after the dog ran off into the trees.
Then we buckled down and got serious. We waded slowly through the water, trying not to stir up too much sediment, and we ended up catching six different crawdads. Joshua would pull them out of the net by their tails and inspect them, telling them they were adorable. The crawdads didn't appreciate the fuzzy, feel-good compliments and held their little claws up ready to pinch any part of Joshua that ventured too close. He would dip them in the water to keep them wet and play with them a little, putting one on the pinnacle of a boulder and singing how he was the king of the world.
He was gentle with them and after five or ten minutes, he would release them back into the running water and search for the next specimen.
The cold water on my feet and legs felt refreshing. Other people came to play in the water so we moved to the grass to hunt snakes, but no luck. We took a walk up the hill, looking at spiders in their webs. Joshua and I have the same instinct - to walk silently and not speak above a breathy whisper when we're amongst the trees. Gestures, quick hand movements, facial expressions all communicate for us in lieu of words many times. And we listen. Really listen. Intently.
As we walked Joshua said, "I'm going to plant your journal, and it will grow into a tree."
(I've kept a physical journal in a series of blank books since I was six)
"And all the fruit it bears will be stories. Each one is a different story," I added. "A story tree!"
And I love that idea so much it may inspire some creative endeavor in the coming days.
Current Mood: okayokay
Current Music: OMD - vinyl album "Architecture and Morality