We took the bikes out this afternoon, ending up at a park we don’t usually go to.
The boys cycled for hours, their faces flushed with colour. Eventually, my eldest took a tumble, splitting his lip open, and so we took a break from cycling. Instead they played in the play area with toy diggers, slipping down the zip-wire and throwing the maple’s ‘helicopter’ seeds into the air. They watch, over and over, as they spin to the ground.
We collected dandelions to make some salve for my eldest boy’s skin – the boys weaving through the long grass with their fists full of little yellow flowers. They shout each time they spot clusters of mushrooms nestled in a patch of clover. We picked cherries from the trees, promising the boys we’ll come back in a few weeks to gather enough to make a cherry pie together.
We let the wind, ferocious but warm, blow away the cobwebs of a Sunday afternoon.