puddle hunting
“A girl is
Innocence playing in the mud,
Beauty standing on its head, and
Motherhood dragging a doll by the foot”– Allan Beck
‘Open the door now – but mind the kitten on your way outside – it would be so sad if we lost him, you see. . .’
Her golden curls catch the sunlight just so as she dashes off on denim legs, leaving her mother’s voice – and the cat – far behind her. She is in a hurry, because today there are puddles! With eyes lost in concentration and a stick in one hand, she studies the transient water. Taunting flashes of green through muddy brown, the leaves float – begging her to try. She does – and is rewarded with her own small victory…
The game is set, the child – lost to the boundaries of her imagination as she happily spears the crocodiles that swim through her mind and into the waters of her own private lake. She is aware, dimly, of the others that dance on the fringes of her world – running and shouting in their playtime bliss. But this game is her own, and she is not inclined to share it just yet. . .
Mud covered and fascinated, she chooses the path of isolation. A moment of hermitry amidst a world always brimming over with people. Joyful in her solitude, she hunts – Friends are ever to be found close by – but puddles in springtime are a fleeting joy. . .
Muddy toes leave blurry marks and sticks are carelessly tossed aside when the call sends her running to rejoin her friends. All manners are forgotten as they rush head over heels together in their hurry to discover what new adventures the afternoon might yet hold for them. . .
Now that play time is past, she harbors a fleeting regret in leaving her world behind, but her attention is diverted by her mother’s promises of soon again, and the whispering softness of a kitten passing by. . .
(inspired by a dear friend and onetime puddle hunter)
images dated 5.09.2012
Huginn, Muninn, and me 
Ki said,
July 9, 2012 at 1:16 pm
This is beautiful! It’s entirely different from the way you usually blog. It made me miss being a child. . .
Me said,
July 9, 2012 at 1:21 pm
Thanks, Ki! I do have very different writing styles, which you know, having seen nearly everything I’ve ever put down. Putting more – emotive? – writings on my blog does tend to make me feel shy, so I avoid it, but these pictures (and my friend) required a bit above the normal bloggy style, I felt… very happy you enjoyed it, and thoughts of happy childhood are just where I wanted you to go. Thanks for such kind words, they always mean a lot to me! *hugs*
Kendall said,
July 9, 2012 at 1:31 pm
awwwww!!! This post definitely makes me wish I could visit a time when things were simpler, if only for a minute, just to hunt the “leaf-o-diles.”
Gammy said,
July 9, 2012 at 1:36 pm
🙂
Sarah Benedict said,
July 9, 2012 at 1:46 pm
Look how big she is!
Tori said,
July 9, 2012 at 2:31 pm
Oh my goodness!!! She is HUGE!!!! I guess it’s my fault for not coming to visit you all in soooooo long! I miss you ever so much! I hope you keep posting on your blog… I missed it while you were in hiding! 🙂
Me said,
July 9, 2012 at 2:49 pm
I know, right – my littlest is not so little anymore!
Tori… come and play! I’ve missed YOU too!
Kendall – take your kids out to hunt leaf-o-diles the next time it rains – you’ll have just as much fun as they do, promise!
Gabriel Beach said,
July 11, 2012 at 8:24 am
She’s still little… just look at her TOES!
Leslie said,
July 11, 2012 at 3:55 pm
Beautifully written! Welcome back! We missed your thoughts and wonderful photos.
FooFoo said,
July 12, 2012 at 5:06 pm
That’s so entirely neat that you allow your girls to be so carefree. Clothing (soggy jeans and all) serves them, and in their delight they don’t serve clothing. Aw, what a lesson for us all.