Last week a tree fell in our backyard. Our children found a sense of delight and joy in the excitement of coming home to a fallen tree. I never imagined that such a large foundation that was literally split in half could create hours of creative play.
Suddenly, I too began to feel small, so small that I could get lost in their world of imagination. If I closed my eyes and felt the cool spring breeze blow through my hair I could imagine that I was lost in the dark ghostly woods. And when I opened my eyes I stood face to face with tentacles of monstrous roots that were transformed into a creature who walked with heavy set footsteps across open fields of soft green grass. Or maybe it wasn't a creature made of roots, but rather a wooden ship carrying voyagers and explorers to be unleashed unto new grounds; to set forth and create civilized territories and progressive villages, all in the dark ghostly woods hidden in our backyard.
Our fallen tree became the key to unlocking our adventures, and those adventures were open and endless. We became the pioneers, the adventurers and the explorers. We became the children who were destined to take on the world. And yes, for that day I was no longer a mother tied to her chores, but a child lost in wonder and imagination.
And so we took on the world, in our very own back yard, hidden behind the dark ghostly woods, on a quiet spring afternoon.
*In the fall I stopped posting my weekly portrait of my children for The 52 Project. At that point, it was too overwhelming with everything going on. Even now I know I won't be able to participate weekly, but I will occasionally share a portrait here and there. Linking up with Jodi for The 52 Project