We were all set for a relaxed weekend, when at 10 in the morning our place was suddenly bombarded by a deafening noise: our upstairs neighbor was having her floors sanded – without warning to us. Well… It was still going on when time Amie’s naptime came around, so we had to flee, and after trying to get her to nap in the stroller – that’s not going to happen anymore! – we got in the car and drove to Walden Pond.
We spent two wonderful hours there. Amie loved it, picking up stones and sand and throwing them into the water, and before I knew it, getting in up to her ankles, shoes and socks and sleeves and all!Â
I stripped us of socks and shoes, rolled up the trouser legs, and we made sand clouds by wiggling our toes, stomping our feet. Threw rocks of course, and stuck twigs into the loose sand. Admired little stone houses built by previous visitors to the small beach. We admired the sunshine on the waves, got dizzy looking at them – Amie kept saying: “I’m going! I’m going now!” – and once or twice nearly fell in. And made waves.
The weather was glorious and the water warm from an entire summer. There were maybe thirty other visitors – a stark contrast to our last visit over a year ago, when we had to fight to find some towel space on the beach.
I picked up Amie and carried her on my hip almost halfway around the pond, telling her about Thoreau – we didn’t make it to the site of his cabin.  She may have understood something of it. It doesn’t matter. She came home and told her Baba: “I went to Walrus Pond!”
Yes, she is wearing her PJs. Baggy, flowery ones.
IÂ felt pretty bad about the car drive. The question of whether a nap was worth it became useless as soon as it was clear that Amie wouldn’t even go to sleep in the car (she didn’t: she was a wild child by the time we got home!). Next time we’re taking more people along, and/or we’re getting there by alternative means.
I love that picture of her leaning towards “Walrus pond”. The boys and I listened to a book on tape about a goose (or was it a swan?) on Walden Pond and it’s realtionship with a girl. It was sooo good. I wish I could remeber the name. Maybe by the time she’s old enough to understand it… I think it had Fledgling in the title. I’ll get back to you. Remind me if I don’t. : )
Hi Madeline,
she’s throwing a rock – you can see it to the left of the photograph, about to hit the water. About the book, I think you’re referring to *The Fledgling* by Jane Langton. I read a review aobut it on Amazon which warns about the sad ending and that it may not be appropriate for very young children… How old were your kids when they read it? I’ll get it at the library and read it on my own. Thanks for the heads-up!