Wednesday, February 17, 2010

sand castles

I made passing reference to it yesterday, but I want to revisit/reconsider it, as it was really something: the sub-scene of kids and dogs at Second Beach "watching" the polo match. They grabbed my attention, as they seemed so unfamiliar — yes, unfamiliar — to me. I'm no longer a member of Toddlerworld and Dogworld, where cute little bottoms and leashes (of various kinds) rule the day, and that floored me.

I miss it, of course — not the diapers (and Pull-Ups) and leashes (and poop), but other aspects (like laughter). How nice to visit, or revisit, it, for a little while. Is that how grandparents feel??

And play — that's the other thing. And sand — how easy and endlessly fascinating to play in the sand, although at some point, as the grown-up, it became unfascinating to me ... the idea of playing in the sand. When is/was that turning point, exactly?? And why can I see now what fun it all is/was?? All those sweet hands and feet, mittens and boots, pink and blue. All those sweet brown doggie eyes and assortment of ears (I'm partial to floppy ones) and not-so-sweet doggie instincts.

Everyone loves a sand castle: endless possibilities, and the impermanence takes the pressure off. They're compelling even to those who choose not to participate. They're even (or especially) compelling to someone/anyone feeling on-edge, unleashed, unsure of the next step ...