I forget sometimes how easy it is to have fun. We are made to walk, we are made to run, we are made to use our imaginations. We found an old path yesterday a path so old it must have been there for a thousand years, set down by the skilled hands of elves long before the world was new.
Under a bridge and by a stream it twisted into the wilderness. Old wood forts, vines that wrapped around rocks, an ancient pipe inhabited by darkness and water, a staff made new imbued with magical fire. My son carried his toy sword, a knight sworn to protect us from the dark spiders that inhabited the woods that we made our travels through. My daughter the willful scout pushing forward unhindered by fear armed with her cloak of invisibility. My wife carrying the youngest who fell fast asleep as she must have been under an evil witches spell.
My kids had fun, we got dirty, my wife and I smiled.
Down by the river, Lost in the middle of Milwaukee.