A hand to hold

This was Paw's spot. The creek at Normandy. The witch's castle eerily looming behind you but far enough away that you forgot about any fears that were in your mind just minutes ago. The creek held endless possibilities....rocks to throw...dinosaur teeth to search for...large rocks to rearrange into a much better dam than the kid before. Paw was always there. Enjoying your enjoyment. Pointing out...well anything. We wouldn't stay long...of course...just enough that we'd end up a bit wet and with a fossil in our pocket.

This was Cayden's first time in boots...which he wasn't so sure about. They weighed too much for his taste and he let us know by frowning and refusing to walk. Actually the stillness was a nice change. He warmed up a bit to them when we put him in the creek. He found his shadow and kept waving to himself! He tossed a rock or two and loved the splash. He didn't venture far (remember the ever heavy boots). I'm thinking next spring he won't be so timid. And I'll remember his baby ways.

Paw wasn't there to enjoy this new one playing in his creek. He would have loved introducing Cayden to a new part of his world. Maybe Paw and God were looking down seeing that Meem was right there carrying on the sweet tradition of fossil hunt'n.