Alright, yet again I’m way behind in my posting. We keep having adventures and they’re building up! I love sharing them and writing about them, but I’ve just been a little overwhelmed lately.
So today, we go back to March. Yep, that far back! Okay, the end of March, but still, March. We headed to Porteau Cove, a gorgeous little park along Howe Sound. The Downeys, the friends we went camping in Oregon with last year, were camping there. Nono, we didn’t join them to camp – they have a camper, we’d just be in a tent! But it was still great to spend the afternoon there, and BBQ up a yummy dinner.
The kids combed over the rocky beach, turning over rocks and small boulders, finding crabs and eel-like fish beneath, probably pricklebacks. With giggles, they scrambled back to display their finds with the grownups … who lounged in the welcome sunlight, relaxing.
But what I really want to write about was Cameron’s willingness to go out on a limb. Rather literally. There was an enormous stump, likely washed up on the beach by winter storms. My cautious little guy, who is normally reluctant to climb higher than he’s comfortable falling (which isn’t very high), claimed the highest spot. Loudly. Proudly. Yes, the others joined him, and they had a blast. It was their little clubhouse, their mountain, their hang-out. He was so happy and relaxed, it was marvelous to see.
Did I worry, with him up there, and so many spiky branches between him and rocks below? Nope. Because I knew, without being up there with him, that he had sure footing. Or else he wouldn’t have gone up there in the first place. He carefully held onto branches … er … roots, and watched where he put his feet. He was safe. But also, pushing his boundaries.