(Polypodium virginianum)
With a boost, two little girls scrambled to the top of the rock. It was a hidden world, only slightly closer than the sky. Oblivious to the eons beneath their feet, they inched to the edge and chattered with the rush of danger. They grew to the limits of the omnipotent view.
Their father watched them as they sat in ferns known only to the stones. They plucked petals from delicate flowers he could not name.
He loves me. He loves me not.
So little they understood of those words they tossed like toys. And that made him smile.
He saw the disappointments coming. The frowns and naked stems. But the girls did not dwell. The sun dappled the worst of shadows and hope sparkled one flower away.
19 comments:
That's very sweet. I take it, you're a dad to girls?
I love these small moments that you seem to capture so well.
And I love this line the best:
"The sun dappled the worst of shadows and hope sparkled one flower away."
If that's true, I'll be out picking flowers.
nice story, short, sweet, and oh soooo true
BD
The forest is like a spell that draws one ever further in.
You captured that , too, Jason.
Dana, yes, I have two girls aged about 6 and 4. This moment happened last Saturday. The picture was taken just after they played their game.
Writing Blind, I really appreciate you saying so. :) I love to explore the power of little moments. Of course, the pictures don't hurt either.
BD, thanks, my friend.
Bernita, so true. I'm amazed every morning I walk out into that world. It's like being submerged without worrying you're going to drown.
Sometimes you just wish you could stop time. Even though I have a boy, the feeling that we're on the brink of this major paradigm shift is there. Soon, I will not be the coolest female he knows.
The other thing you've captured here is that kids tend to make the world new for their parents, sometimes.
They plucked petals from delicate flowers he could not name.
That's rather wonderful and sad.
its lovely Jason, as always....hold tight to those special moments with your girls, they fly by so fast (seems only yesterday my daughter was that age...oh yes, she's now 23)
Jason - Loved this! A glimpse of your tender side.
To be young again with my sister picking petals off flowers. :)
I really like this Jason. The sun dappled the worst of shadows and hope sparkled one flower away.
Jaye, I know what you mean about those paradigm shifts. I haven't hit the parent digust stage yet, but I have seen important shifts where their independent personalities really bloom.
Flood, you're right, seeing the world fresh again is an important gift children give. As for being unable to name the flower, no matter how hard we try, I suppose sometimes we just don't have the answers.
Bev, thank you. :) I try to remind myself that I'll miss these days, but I should remind myself more often.
Normiekins, what a wonderful memory! I'm honored to have evoked a warm moment for you. :) Thanks for sharing it with me.
Joni, I'm going to try to show more in the coming weeks. Thanks for the kind words. :)
Beady, you're blessed to be so close with your sister. I can only hope my girls will stay as close.
Watching our children explore and learn about the world around them is a marvelous experience. I remember when mine were that age, Jason. They grow up so quickly.
Jeff, I'm afraid I'm going to learn that lesson (growing up quickly) all too soon. Maybe capturing moments like this will help me to remember. :)
Oh, thanks for depressing me, Jason. Geez...
Just kidding. I liked it very much.
This is so beautiful; I cannot even begin to tell you. It holds the innocence of youth against the age of the Earth and the Father.
I liked the image of the girls reaching for the sky, but settling for the highest point on the hill, and the symbolism of the flower as a wheel, giving and taking as we spin through our lives.
I have not read all of your writings, but this is my favorite so far.
Perfect. You took me there.
Smooch,
The Tart
; *
"those words they tossed like toys" - I can hear these girls laughing (sounds a lot like my daughter at that age).
Took me back. My daughter is grown up and married, now, but I can still see the six-year-old if I look at her all fuzzy through my eyelashes...
Thanks, Jason. You have a knack for capturing the moment and sharing it. (And I think you'll thank yourself, too, years in the future, when you reread these writings and remember.)
Rene, just grab another flower. It worked for my girls. :)
Mermaid, your description is more beautiful than my words. I'm spellbound.
The Tart, thank you! I love to hear what things are the most meaningful to each person.
Fran, I can still see the six-year-old if I look at her all fuzzy through my eyelashes... Such a poignant thought. Thank you for reliving it with me. :)
I am blessed to be your reader. Your words are akin to mystic poets who capture the voice of nature in its most organic form.
Your daughters are blessed too, I bet.
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