Willa is always up for a walk or a hike or a swing in the hammock. Facing out in her little baby carrier, of course. Enamored of the sunshine through the trees as we walk and talk and sing. I'll feel her head pushing against my chest, as she looks up and up and up - at the light, at the branches, at the dancing leaves.
Which, in turn, has me looking up and up and up. Huh. Just now remembering how much I loved doing that during my lolling about in the summer months of my youth. Remembering that during the crazier years of my life - working in Manhattan with topsy-turvy late hours and too much of this and too much of that - I found a profound settling in my soul during weekend trips to the country. And finding my way back. Crawling my way back to the perfect spot under a tree.
With trees on the brain, I have been putting aside money from some of my freelance work to buy several native varieties for our land for a fall planting. I have also been looking at these prints for Willa's room. Belleandboo's images are exquisite in the nostalgia they induce. Pirates. Argggghhhh!