We're feeding the animals and moving the water on the pastures while my parents are out of town. The evenings "down below" (that's what we call the lower part of my parents' property) are absolutely idyllic. My kids run wild; sticks and long blades of grass standing in for swords and wands. They chase the barn kitty and make up imaginary games wherein the barnyard becomes a "gigantic kingdom and the good king of the barn and the evil queen of the shed are always fighting each other." They slosh their muck boots through trickling streams of wayward water and sit on the gates and taunt the cows with silly faces. All the things that childhood ought to be filled with. Nate crisscrosses the pastures on the quad, moving lines, wearing my dad's blackwatch flannel, hat backwards, big boots. Handsome as can be, my heart tells me in bursting thumps as I watch him. I stand down there, rolling green on every side, feeling incredibly lucky that we get to leave our footprints in those pastures and make our memories on the banks of the irrigation canal.
henry always wants to dress the part :)
dirty little ruffian
that horse was just nuzzling lily like crazy and she was giggling. i love her cute face.