My 2 year old grandson, Mason, and I flew to Santa Barbara. I packed drawing paper and paint sticks (looks like lipstick tubes), a book of forest school, snacks and a bunch of other stuff to 'keep him busy.' Most of it was unnecessary. He enjoyed looking out the window.
"Mimi, runway."
"Yes, we are on a runway. Soon the plane will take off."
"Flying to Aunt Gina's."
"Yes, we are on our way to Aunt Gina's house."
After our ascent, Mason was quiet for a long while.
"We are here now.
Flying.
With the clouds."
"Yes, we are here now.
Flying in and with the clouds.
Mountains far below."
We noticed that his new horse has hair that looks like clouds. The horse is named Cloudy.
Ahhh. My Zen teacher invites me into the poetry of the present.