Millbrook Marsh Musings

All set for a little adventure!

On the heels of another boring errand - picking up the vacuum from the repairman - I decided that we'd finally check out Millbrook Marsh.

Are you noticing a theme here?  I love throwing something educational and fun in with the mundane things of life.  I see it as a priceless life lesson ~ 

behave in the boring things and good things come your way. 

The boardwalks at the Marsh are rather intriguing, since we don't normally get to explore such things. 

We're up for games of Pooh-sticks... ahem... Pooh-flowers.  

Brush up on your A.A. Milne if you aren't certain how to play.

And the cat-tails!

Oh, the cat-tails!  What curious marsh plants they are, especially when there are scads and scads of them, whispering and rustling gently in the breeze.  Blossom3's delight and fascination with her cat-tails rivaled glee over a true cone of cotton candy.

We checked out the bird-watching station, noting the calling "squee" of fowl 

amidst an azure sky.

Hmmmmm, more Pooh-flowers?

No, more exploring!  

Blossom1 lingered at the back of the pack, lazily and affectionately chatting with me.

Blossom4 enjoyed listening to her hollow footfalls, as the crunchy leaves tumbled down the boardwalk in the gentle wind.

She also adored balancing on the edges.  I don't usually mind walking a bit slower to accommodate her little footsteps.  I was a gymnast; I spent A LOT of time balancing on curbs and whatnot.  My mama never left me behind.

Blossom4's pixie energy drove her to stare inquisitively over the side of the boardwalk, in order to see what was underneath.  I can't say that I blame her, as I wondered that myself.  

It strikes me that a lot of parenting is a generous dose of empathy.  When I step in their shoes, I'm a little more patient, a little more understanding.  I slow down.  I look.  I listen.

Blossom4 also whipped out her magnifying glass to better admire nature's intricacies.  

This "lace" is exquisite, wouldn't you agree?

Blossom2 forged constantly ahead, willing to "harvest" these and other small beauties for her sisters.

So many little things are quite lovely ~ tiny packages of beauty.

Blossom3 was enthralled with the purple plumpness of these berries.  She sketched them in her nature journal, among other such things.

We lingered on a wooden outcropping, getting comfortable and quiet, relishing the cheery buzzing of cricket-like creatures and the faraway squeal of a chipmunk.

Colored pencils clattered about.

Erasers were shared.

The "Mama, how do you spell _______?s" littered our sporadic conversation.

Afterward, the Blossoms ventured creek-ward for more exploring.  Our rock hound, Blossom2, discovered this fascinating rock in the happily babbling creek.  It had been painted by a local artist, complete with a hashtag for internet searching.  

The Blossoms' curiosity was piqued when they realized that Blossom2 had to re-hide this rock.  

"It's a game?  Hide and re-hide?!"  

Mr. Drake here agreed that the perfect hiding spot was absolutely necessary.  (Blossom2 informed me of his thoughts on the matter.)

How 'bout a tree?

Look up!  Should she hide it there?

Or in the wild mint so jauntily swaying in the current?

Doggedly they hunted high

and low for a new hiding spot.

They searched far and wide, 

and settled on a non-descript garden.

I would've chosen the tree, but hey, I'm just an adult.  What do I know about hiding things? 

Dominique

On Leaves the Size of Montana and Other Things

After one of the Blossoms' most anticipated events of the year - the co-op Thanksgiving potluck, which is something like the equivalent of a class holiday party - this mama had to get her driver's license picture taken.  Mega exciting, I know. 

But, there's a little nature park nearby, that I've oft wanted to explore, so with a bark of "Throw your nature journals and colored pencils in your backpack," I kept this little idea in my back pocket as a surprise for later.

I like to think that learning can happen anywhere, in the moments that we embrace, the opportunities right in front of us, instead of hoping for a better time, a better place, or even a better method.

I like to snatch the moments of just being together, grabbing on tight to the snippets of time that we have.  

This felt like that.

A boring errand that must be done before the holidays and the perfect location to explore.  

Once my little surprise was out of the bag, grins of delight emerged and twinkles of curiosity lit in their eyes.

We meandered wooded paths, exclaiming over maple leaves the "size of Montana."  Said maple leaf is now residing pinned to the bulletin board over Blossom2's desk.  I dread the day it gets bumped, crumples and must be relocated into the cycle of life, i.e., the compost pile.

We explored the chilly marshy froggy habitats.  

Poor Toad.  He is not allowed to cross.

Savoring a short repast in this woodland throne flickered the Blossoms' imaginative stories alive.

Mama adored the wooden bridges.  Water crossings are delightful, even when the creeks are low.  Hollow footfalls and shouts of glee make my mama heart glad.

When we're out in the Great Outdoors, I like to keep an eye on where the girlies are spending the most time.  Then, we plop down and journal there.  This catch and release area, chock-full of monstrous trout, suited the Blossoms' fancy just fine.  Since some thoughtful person stocked it with fish food, they loved feeding the fish and naming the species they could see.  

We all journal, even Mama, and I'm amazed at what journalling can do for someone.  It's a processing tool.  It's practicing communication.  It aids in observation.  It's an exercise that it unique to each child.  

We packed up and journeyed home, happy in a few moments of fresh air and fully appreciating the beauty God placed around us.

Dominique

Life (Hiking) Lessons

Now that the foliage is gone, you'll probably enjoy a few peeks at flaming foliage as much as I did.  Technically, it's still autumn, right?

Remember how I was so excited to enjoy this trail with the Rugged Mountain Man?  

We were happy to bring the girlies along this time.  

I love that hiking reinforces so many terrific life lessons.  

We like this avenue for teaching the Blossoms to be mindful, to pay attention, to truly observe.  

We love that relishing God's creation, points us to the Great Creator.

We love that hiking helps us learn how to do hard things, how to really persevere.  

It's practicing perseverance in little step-size bites.  

At some point in every hike, someone hits that place where they just don't want to go any further.  

We're out in the middle of nowhere though.  There's no choice.  

You just have to keep going.  

You can whine.  You can complain.  You can cry.  (Yes, it happens.)  

But, the only way back to the truck, is to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  

There's so many situations in life where this can apply.

Think of how many women proclaim in childbirth, "That's it.  I'm done.  I'm going home."  

It doesn't work like that.  

There's so much in life that you just gotta go through.

You have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  

Many times you find out that you've got a little more to give than you think you do.

You really CAN go another step.

When the Blossoms "hit the wall," we usually come along to encourage and to energize.

Maybe it's a piggyback ride for a minute or two, another sip of water or a reminder that there's ice cream at the end of the trail.  Whatever form the encouragement takes, they do not hike alone.  

Perhaps you've come upon some hard things that must be done.  

You are not hiking alone.  

The only way is probably straight through.  

Keep hiking...

...And smile a little too.

(Blossom3 and Blossom4 are each in their own way admiring 

our favorite massive oak tree along the trail.  To each her own.)