Thursday, October 8, 2009

I Held Her Hand

Today I'm late writing because I had something better to do. My granddaughters and I spent the afternoon walking around Commonwealth Lake. Syd and her friend, Heather, ran ahead of us speaking some newly created language destined to drive me nuts. Gabby walked along with me holding my hand.

We talked about Queen Anne's Lace and trees that would make good tree houses. We sat on the bank and watched ducks splash and tiny minnows swim in waves along the side. Small birds flitted in and out of the weeds. There was bench sitting, railing leaning and play equipment playing. The girls had voted to come to the lake for a walk on this beautiful fall day. It was a good choice.

While the children investigated and played, I became aware of the absence of the usual Canada geese and fat, white and brown geese that usually swam in these waters. Scum and debris that filled the slough was creeping into the lake. The water was brown and murky.

Gabby held my hand never leaving it for long. She smiled up at me telling me that she was having the best time doing what we love to do, looking at nature. I looked at her little, sweet hand in mine and said a silent prayer, "God, help me protect this for her and her children. Please."

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