Park Days

Hanging out at a park on a beautiful day... climbing on rocks, spotting tiny turtles sunning themselves, fishing for leaves in the pond with a stick, playing frisbee in the grass, walking under towering coniferous trees on a carpet of pine needles, marveling over the colors of azeleas and the scent of wisteria, clambering up the slide and then sliding down again on your belly, swinging really high, relaxing under a tree with a good book to read aloud, picnicking in the shade, hunting for jack-in-the-pulpits and tiny striped spring beauties growing among dry oak leaves in the spring, and walking through the golden forest of yellow maples in the fall.

All these things combine to make what is for me a perfect way to spend an afternoon with my children. I have loved this sort of outing with them pretty much above all others. The problem is, spending the afternoon with Mom at the park is no longer top of the list for some of my crew. Those days that at one time seemed as endless as the sands of the sea and as numerous as the stars... well, the clock is ticking on them.

And really, I don't want to drag them kicking and screaming. Not that they would really kick and scream, you understand. But I want them to want to just hang out at the park all afternoon, like we did in the old days, when a little fish net and a bucket at a creek with minnows and crayfish was all we needed to keep two little boys happy.

Yesterday I requested that the boys give me the day. They had both Thursday and Friday off school this week for conferences, and they had spent Wednesday night sleeping over at their friends' house, and then spent all of Thursday with a group of friends. So it wasn't an unreasonable request, for them to come to check out a new park with the girls and I on Friday for a few hours. Just us, no extra kids. Sometimes I want to just be with my own children... not too much to ask, I don't think.

It was an amazingly beautiful day. We found the park. It was in the middle of the city, an oasis in the concrete jungle. It was small, but packed full of places to explore. I fell in love with it immediately. It had all the necessary elements... the pond, the rocks, the trees, the sunshine, the benches in the shade, pine needles, wisteria, a small playground, paths through tall trees, even a little turtle sunning himself on a rock in the middle of the pond. We had a lunch, books, a Frisbee... we had it all.

And the boys rose to the occasion. They were underwhelmed by the park at first, but then they saw the possibilities in the rocks around the pond. They could jump from rock to rock. Rocks that were far apart. Rocks that were dangerously far apart. Suddenly the park was a sort of okay place to be, even if there weren't any friends with us. We all climbed around the rocks for a while, ending up at the far end of the pond. Caleb asked for a drink, which I produced from my backpack. Then I suggested that maybe we eat our lunch right here on these rocks. "You brought lunch?" he asked, surprised. "Of course I did," I answered.

Don't you remember, little boy? Mom brings lunch when we go play at parks. Remember that little park with your favorite creek, way back when we lived in Ohio? Remember how we'd lunch on graham crackers and peanut butter at that park? Just something quick to eat before you had to hurry back to the water and find that elusive crawdad who hung out under the rocks.

So we ate lunch on the big rocks by the pond, and somehow during lunch one of Gwen's shoes fell in the water. It was so much fun to fish it out that it ended up in the water several more times, and then both the shoes were in and being rescued. Caleb and Seth played catch with her shoes across the pond... whoops, one is in the water again! Who will fish it out this time?


After the lunch and the shoes in the water, we walked through the trees on a raised wooden walkway, watched one of the ever-present card games found in Chinese parks, played Frisbee a little, slid down the slide, climbed on the rocks a little more, took a few pictures, smelled the wisteria, bought some Gatorade. The boys shot around a little on the basketball court, and then we were ready to go. I would have settled down under a tree with a book to read aloud, but it had been enough. I didn't want to press my luck, and anyway, it was a bit of a drive to get home and we had places to be later in the day.

I remember a time when I was in my early teens when my mom took us all to a park for lunch, one day in the summer. I remember that going to that park that day was not high on my list. We were all a little too old to really enjoy the playground equipment, but I know there was a picture taken of my sister and I at the top of the slide. I think we walked on the path in the woods there a little that day after our lunch. Even though I didn't really want to be there, I could sense that my mom really wanted it to be a fun day for us all. Now I know why. That park was just down the street from the house we had moved away from the summer I was four years old. So it was a place my mom probably remembered with fondness, a place she took her toddlers to. Back in the time when the park days were for her as endless as the sands of the sea and as numerous as the stars.

I get it now, Mom. I hope I wasn't sullen and bored that day. I hope I rose to the occasion. I hope I gave you that day.

I thanked Caleb yesterday, for coming to the park and having fun. I told him how important it was to me. Someday I think he will understand why.