Last week Mom took me to Tower Park. She pushed me up and down the sidewalks and streets in my stroller and then spread a quilt out on the grass. I watched big kids slide down a slide and climb a tree. I looked up at the clouds and the many, many leaves. I got real dirt in my fingernails after grabbing fistfuls of clover and grass. Mom sat next to me, watching me and talking to me, and did a good job of keeping insects away from me.
“It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.” —Robert Louis Stevenson
