Farmer's Market

A glorious day, but now pouring rain. This has been an amazingly mild spring and summer so far. Very wet. Which is oh so good for this land that usually is in drought and 100+ temperatures by early May. We've been spending a lot of time indoors, more from the mosquitoes that are thriving in this wetness, than the actual wetness itself.

But today we spent the later afternoon at our local farmer's market. Bowie immediately stripped down to his green undies and brand new dancing skeleton Vans to participate in the mass enjoyment of the dancing fountain. I must, must return there with him some evening and take photos. The kids had a blast chasing the water, trying to predict when the spouts would shoot, positioning themselves just so in the arch of the sprays. People, all kinds of people, sat around and watched the children play. It was clearly a place of joy for everyone. After 2 hours of this, we went over to the stage to enjoy some live music. Bowie laid down on his tummy, chin in hands, front row and watched the band for about 6 songs. Then he took off into the large yard and attached himself to a group of older kids, joining in on their goal of filling a grate with gravel from the walking paths. I sat 100s of feet away and watched from afar. I never took my eyes off of him. I saw that he was having his own experience, one that I can guess at but that I do not share with him. It was sad and wonderful. His world is bigger than me now. It is a loss for me. But the gain is so amazing; he is knowing and trusting himself, seeking out people all around him.

He had 3 or 4 involved conversations with adult strangers. He initiated all of them. He offered them food, showed them his new shoes, and smiled the most heart meltingly charming smiles. Even kissed some of them. This usually is received with delighted perplexed expressions. It’s sweet. (Sometimes he is greeted with annoyance and discomfort, though.) I think it’s wonderful that he still trusts the world. I watch over him like a hawk, my mother’s anxieties undeniable. But watching him in his confidence also sets me at peace with the world. Most people will respond to true interaction with kindness. And that’s too good too miss out on.

We were quite almost the last people at the market, the tents were gone, the fountain danced only with itself, the stage was silent, the bocce ball players had ridden off on their bikes, and the clouds were rolling in. I wished I had my camera. The pink, grey, blue, white, black…Bowie, still in only his undies and shoes, could not bear to leave. He’d been rolling in the grass, carrying rocks against his belly, skimming over brick walls (belly scratched), and he couldn’t be happier as Chris and I commented that everything he was doing looked so utterly uncomfortable. But he chose the fun. Because that’s too good to miss out on. Hmmm, I think I’ve realized my lesson from Bowie today. Notice and enjoy the things that are too good to miss out on.

Like the farmer's market.