2.25.2002
The creek walk is split into two. Up by the old mission the mothers mill around the fountain with the bronze bear. They seem to all know each other which makes me feel somewhat self-conscious because I haven't taken the time to get to know anyone to the point where I can stop and chat. All I seem to be capable of is a bright Hi! while wheeling past. Hannah may never make any friends given her mother's poor social skills.
Then there's the manicured side of the creek, down here, with a stone wall curving low on the edge of a grassy slope, nearly always empty, but not today. We park the stroller and I unstrap her and lift her onto my knee. We sit close enough to a couple to hear their conversation which fades to creek noise in a few minutes. Today the ducks are out in force, sunning themselves high up on the bank and very close to where we are sitting. She eyes them curiously and I wonder what she thinks of these waddling ovoid creatures. But all she says is "AahH" over and over, at varying levels of cute pitch, while bouncing lightly on tiptoe and waving her right arm. The ducks get into a mating tangle and embarrassment overtakes good sense. "They're just being silly, sweetie!" I say in that bright, loud tone mothers use. I look away. She ignores me and continues to watch them.
The creek is our weary afternoon compromise. That she sits still for this just amazes me, perhaps she's as tired as I am and simply needs a respite from the mountain of brightly colored plastic accumulating in her room.
After a while a wandering thumb hits home and she settles back against me. We sit and watch the ducks and listen to the sound the water makes as it tumbles noisily along the rocky creek bed.