This used to be a regular haunt of ours. We haven’t been here for a while. I couldn’t help but giggle when I remembered how as a homeschooling posse of muslim mamas we came here when our babes were tots to teach them about trees and some salt dough was produced so the children could make casts of the tree bark. I swear other walkers though we were planting Semtex. Or how little the eldest was then, before the midget was even an idea. How he would try to rugby-tackle everyone around him.
We’ve been here most autumns to watch the rut, and to say hello to our doe-eyed friends. This year it all felt so different. Maybe it’s because they are getting older. Maybe I’m moving on. Maybe we need to come more often.
Memories are a double-edged sword.