The boys had so much fun--I don't think they had even a moment of boredom. Even on Sunday, which was too cold and rainy to be outside, we only pulled out one board game and that only to keep the noise level down. Inside, they had green plastic army men, paper airplanes, pillow fights, wrestling, books and who knows what else to keep them busy. Outside, they went hiking, shooting, fishing, exploring, built a fire and more.
The rain made everything green and beautiful. Something about being outdoors just reassures me that somehow things will all work out. I kept thinking a poem that one of my mom's good friends shared with me:
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.