hike

My husband had knee surgery last week. I've been home more than usual lately, but it seems like I've had even less quality time with my son. So we headed out for a hike last Friday.

I was feeling tired and stressed when we got to the trailhead parking lot. I think my son was tired, too, because it didn't seem like we were ever going to complete the short walk from the car to the trailhead. He was distracted by things like jumping over this ravine. (See that crosswalk? That leads to the parking lot. Just to give you a sense of our progress.)

He seemed generally unmotivated to walk. I realized we might not even make it to the trailhead, and I started to relax and live in the moment. Our hike would go however it was going to go, no matter what I did to try to make it fit my idea of a hike. So I pulled out my camera and took some photos.

Yes, it was one of those kinds of days.

See that street sign? That's where the trailhead is. See my son? Completely uninterested in making forward progress. But picking up rocks is fun, too.

We actually did make it onto the trail eventually.

It was about this point that he handed me some rocks and said, "Take these, Mama, I'm tired of carrying them."

We walked a little further until we got to our snack spot. This was the view looking toward the city.

This was the view behind us.

It was a lovely day. Perfect temperature, some cloud cover, and a breeze. Being there, aware of a chill when the wind blew, in the quiet company of my sweet (snacking) son, was calming and rejuvenating.

Normally I'd pack a healthy snack, but with my husband recovering from surgery, it's Pop Tart week at our house. Guess who loves that.

We took some silly selfies, including some classic nose-in-the-eye poses.

On the way back, my son found a couple sticks and began shooting imaginary bad guys along the trail. I'm not exactly sure where the fascination with shooting people comes from, because he doesn't own any toy guns or see anything like that on tv, but my mom assures me it's a normal boy thing.

At some point, a nice man caught us while we were having a quick dance party on the trail. He passed us, and as he disappeared into the distance, my son decided he was a bad guy and began stalking him. He ran down the trail after this innocent man, planning to shoot him with his stick-gun when he caught him. I wasn't clear on exactly what the man had done that was so bad, and asked him how he would feel if someone shot his father. Terrible, he said. And then continued his pursuit. He was quite disappointed when, from the top of a hill, we saw the man crossing to the trailhead parking lot. When a car drove up the street, he asked, "Do you think that's him? Either way, I'm going to shoot that car." Can't argue with that logic.

Back at the trailhead, my son was pleased to find his "Policeman Pole." I asked if that was like a fireman's pole. He said yes, and that he thought policeman probably had poles too.

 

C the Policeman, to the rescue!