Wednesday, March 12, 2014
The world is so full of a number of things
Another afternoon at the Botanics with Grandson. We admired the spring bulbs.
He bounced on a branch. (I'm not sure that this is strictly encouraged by the authorities but I'll stop him once he gets heavier.)
The rhododendrons were lovely. I showed him how you can put a fallen blossom on your finger as a hat. He laughed.
The sun shone on him and his dolly.
He looked at the waterfall and made his favourite joke: "Waterfall. Ouch!" His trousers are actually red, not pink as they look here.
He stepped very carefully round the crocuses, one foot on either side of a clump. "These are crocuses," he told me. Then he circumnavigated a patch of daisies equally carefully. "These are daisies." I'm getting him indoctrinated into gardening - I hope.
He pushed his buggy up a hill, stopping every now and then to see if it would roll back when he let it go. Sometimes it did: gravity. Sometimes, on a rough piece of path, it didn't: friction.
And so he learns about the world.