Put me in nature and I regress to my twelve year old self. I get down and tickle the plants… giggle… skip… 😆 I was raised on Anne of Green Gables and My Side of the Mountain and spent half my childhood on the family ranch and the other half running wild in the field next to my house. At twelve I stumbled out from behind a tree in that neighborhood field into wide open suburbia with a full morning glory crown on my head only to be assaulted by a LOOK from one of my neighbors who clearly though I was much to old for such nonsense. 😳 I have always been THAT kid. 🤪🥰 I was ashamed of it for a bit, but good thing I never quite let that shame kill off my poetic heart. We were up the canyon the other day and I was telling my fam how I always have the urge to kidnap a bit of moss and keep it as a pet and of course they all gave me the side eye except for the one child that also has a dreamer’s heart. He was content to Ooo and Ahhh at all the leaves and exclaim over their brilliant colors and stroke the softness of the pines with me. In photography they tell you to capture hands which next to eyes are the most emotive physical feature and I didn’t have to think twice when I watched my boy reach out to pay homage to autumn’s brilliance with awe as gentle as a kiss.
