Celebrate Wonder

I love the simple, infectious joy of children.

My Seattle-raised niece, Kenya,  in the midst of a rare snow bliss, Thanksgiving 2010.

A dog with his bone, Thanksgiving 2009.

Everything seems so wonderfully mysterious and magical to them. 

Drawing a monster.

A monster with bad eyes.

 The possibilities for fun are endless.

My nephew, Tree, after snorkeling in Fort Peck in 2009, not the place that comes to mind perhaps when you think snorkeling, but hey, no matter....

Feeding the ducks and running about, Thanksgiving 2010.

 The smallest of things can become a grand adventure. 

Photo by Terry Davenport.  Or I think that's the case, but since Terry is in the photo I am a tad confused.

She seems to always end up with a feather in her hair when she plays at my house.  But, she broke my heart and told me she doesn't like birds.  Oh well, she'll grow out of it I am sure.  Also, I believe this is how the creepy glasses met their end.  That balloon had a fat head.

Take a flashlight, turn off the lights, and go spelunking in the dark corners of the house. 

Explorer Eli in 2009.

Clamor to help dry dishes with a smile, as long as you "get me a stool" to stand on. 

Transform a balloon into a vollyball into a big, round, belly into a human face, into a monster face, until the balloon bursts at which point it is time to learn how to pop things...like old ziplock bags, and bubble wrap quite literally pulled from the trash. 

Beg to do "The Underdog" stretching (yoga), as if it were a just a game and not exercise. 

Thanksgiving 2009.

Turn a card table and bedding into a private fort. 

Photo by Lisa George, 2010.

Make music without a care whether it is "good" or not. 

Thanksgiving 2010.

March 2010.

Paint a house, again as if it were a game, and not work at all. 

August 2009.

Play in the snow until your nose is frozen and feet soaking wet and not caring too much because of the pure joy of it all.

Thanksgiving 2010.

It is a shame to me that so many grown-ups have seemingly lost this sense of wonder and delight in the small pleasures that can be found everywhere.  Children sure know how to stop and smell the roses.  I like that.  They remind me to do the same.  Life is too short to not celebrate the wonder.