Our weekend was a bright, a truly bright, moment in an otherwise dull month. But rainy days have their own moments of splendor. Every time we drive into the city we go by these beautiful farm fields that, in the spring, are a bright emerald green, and they are never so bright as on a dismally rainy day. They make me think of Ireland, and long to visit distant shores. We actually stopped today and rolled down the window to grab a couple of shots and to breath in the sweet spring air.
I guess that is a little like stopping to smell the roses, but to me the fresh smell of the dawning of a new season is ever so much more enjoyable than an over-perfumed rose. There are a great many things deemed beautiful by the world at large—things that we are told we must experience by people who must know—but things overlooked far outnumber those that are worshipped, and who is to say what you or I will find the most beautiful. Certainly not those people who are in the know.
I mention to Calvin, while on our way home after the quick photo stop, that those fields are what I imagine Ireland might look a little like. Oh, he says, and I can tell that his mind is somewhere other than on Eire. I am right. His mind is on Iceland, and has been for a few days now. He wants to know more about volcanoes. When he started reading that dinosaur story last week I prepared books for the questions I was sure to be coming—questions about dinosaurs, of course. But Calvin is not overly interested in dinosaurs at this moment, it's volcanoes and tectonic plates that fill his mind day and night. And while it is widely assumed that children, especially boys, will succumb to a love affair with dinosaurs at an early age, volcanoes live in the shadow of their cretaceous co-habitants, at least as far as information for kids goes. But the information is out there if you leave the world of pop-culture and explore a little. We watched the National Geographic video on volcanoes for a third time tonight (thank you Netflix streaming), we have a handful of books from the library, and I've got some Bill Nye queued up on You-Tube for tomorrow.
Dinosaurs, like roses, are not favorites for all of us. We'll get to dinosaurs eventually, at least to some extent, and when we do Calvin will apparently already know all about volcanoes. I think if I offered the child a choice between a trip to Disney World and a trip to Iceland that he would joyfully pick the latter. I am good with that. Disney World is too crowded anyhow.
As you can tell, my injured hand has much improved, plus I have nearly mastered the art of typing with only two fingers on the right hand. I suspect that I will have to re-learn proper typing technique in a couple of weeks here.