There is something magical about little kids. I do not know what it is, but I enjoy the innocence and wonder that little kids have. Taking them out on the boat Sunday was a return to the days of old. Those days of old when our kids were still filling out. They were not the formed beings they are now. They were still the cloud of potential. Those journeys where they would become later. The childlike innocence of who they would yet become. Now, they, I would say, they are shapes. Then, small they were almost shapeless. Yes, they had formed, but-but the shape that they would eventually become. They were yet to be formed into set stone creations.
Not that I wish to return to those days. Rather, that when presented, there is a wistful moment.
You too can wax poetic and join the photo challenge!