Walk.

Our afternoon walk. Or should I say "walk". 


Haven understands the literal meaning of a walk. She knows it means we actually walk; we physically move from one place to another by putting one foot in front of the other, over and over until we're home again.


She just prefers her own interpretation.

What's the rush, right?


A lovely root to sit on, vines to yank on, strange and inedible berries to pick; life is good. Everything else will wait.

I admit, I indulge her. I even encourage her; I comment on the trees, I point out the vines, I tell Sonja to sit down too so that I can include her in the photos.


No one to blame but myself.


Besides, I love it and the girls both know it.

And when I say, "Okay, Ladies, time to go," I quickly take a few more shots because I realize that I can never duplicate this moment and they will never be exactly this age again. 


Yeah, sometimes I'm in a huge rush and Haven's idea of a walk is a bit of a nuisance. Other times it's the best damn reminder to just slow down and enjoy the moment.