parking

September 28, 2006 | Filed Under ordinary 

we’ve found the park of our dreams. sometime last week a mountain of sand was piled in the soon-to-be (too soon) sand-volleyball court. last night we climbed it, the white and sparkle of it sticking to our legs and arms, feet and fingers. henry dove down the sides of it like a penguin on ice. jude stomped holes in it, rolled down it, threw sand off of it. the other mother at the park gave me dirty looks because she didn’t want to let her own children get all sparkly in the sand.

we like to take soccer balls to the fields and kick them up and down, back and forth, in an effort to get some of that aggression and energy out of these boys of ours.

we like to climb up in the three story (two and a half?) tree house with fast tunneled slides, one that curves and bumps your shoulders, your knees, your face if you’re not fast enough. if you stand outside this slide you can hear the bumping, the protests, the giggling.

we like to walk around the gigantic rocks, around and around the playground.  henry’s toe is bleeding but he continues around.

henry likes that glider, the one that he is not yet tall enough to reach, that swings him across to the other side and bumps him back again. we give him rides and our arms hurt. he and isabelle glide and slide across and they laugh. again and again they glide and they laugh and we laugh, too.

we like to jump in the puddles after the rain. even new sidewalks have uneven places for puddles.  we like to find gigantic acorns, miniature pine-cones, and drown them in the water.

we like to swing, and the swings are sturdy and flexible and allow for great heights to be reached. henry swings his head back, down, and looks at the trees, his hair standing on end, upside down, curling. i like to swing higher and higher until it seems as though i’m swinging over the edge of the hill that rolls down to a soccer field. jude likes to run and jump with his belly onto the swing, sometimes flipping over, most times not.

the white sand was the best yet, though, and this morning when we came the mountain was gone (”i want to climb the mountain, mom!” jude mourned), leveled out around the poles for volleyball nets. i was glad that i didn’t care about the evil looks from the sparkle-free mother and that we spent a good forty-five minutes climbing, rolling, swimming on the mountain, that it was dark when we left, watching the moon(coming out of a keen city in the sky), shiver, in the black above us.

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