Photo by Speckly Woo!
A long walk for short legs, all the way to the little bridge and back. Each in turn, they're raised up to look for trains. Blue eyes waiting for an engine to loom large on the zip-like tracks. Watching for one to tear down the line and undo the countryside.
No trains today, but not too much disappointment. Instead, held hands, and pointed fingers with questions dangling from each tiny tip. Questions like, "What are a dog's bones made of?" and "How did Jesus, on our Christmas card, die and then come back to life? Other people don't come back after they've died, do they?"
I have questions too, how do children manage to point at a tree or a bird, and promptly make enquiries about resurrection? And, why do we, as adults, think in such a cluttered and less colourful fashion?