Journal 2.0

We checked out a new park today, Edward Medard Park, not 15 minutes from our house. The sun shone gloriously over the expanse of still water. A hawk circling overhead greeted us, and all kinds of herons, a sandhill crane, grackles, a jurassic pelican, and a few anhingas roosted in a large thatch alongside the bridge across the waterway. A breeze rippled the water and made the heat of midday pleasant. We found an “observation” tower at the end of the bridge, but the trees had grown up so tall around it that there wasn’t much of a view. So we explored.

It was quiet. Naturally quiet. This quiet has been hard to find in the state, county and federal parks we’ve visited here in Florida. Usually a background roar of car and/or airboat engines distract from the peace one is supposed to encounter in nature. Today, I could hear cars, but they were far enough away that I was able to tune them out.

We walked into the woods, Corey taking the lead, of course, Marley in the middle, and Old Mom (me) bringing up the rear. We walked along unofficial trails carved out by small groups of visitors who’d come before us to smoke a joint, have a beer, harass alligators. Their presence was obvious by the occasional red plastic cups and cigarette butts they left behind.

The trail snaked around the high banks on the water’s edge. Marley maneuvered through the vines, brush and tree roots like an old pro. Every so often, we’d encounter an open descent toward the water. Corey would tell us to stay put while he slunk down to check for alligators. It was clear we were not alone.

Swooshsplash! I turned my head just in time to see a four- or five-foot gator crash ungracefully into the shimmering water. “Gator! Gator!” I yelled to Marley and Corey. It was the closest we’d been to a wild gator since moving to Florida, so our hearts beat with excitement.

On our way down the next bank, we heard another splash and caught sight of a second gator, about 8 feet long, with a head bigger than all of Marley. We were on top looking down on his glistening bumpy hide as he swam away.

We moved on along the rugged path to the next opening. Corey skulked down one opening, while Marley and I checked out another very close by. I was holding Marley’s hand when I came around a slight bend just in time to hear an enormous SPLASHHH! and see a huge 10 foot gator writhe and bend as he splashed into the water below.

It frightened all of us. Corey was closer to him than we were, but his view was partially blocked by trees, so he didn’t see the gator until he splashed into the water. Marley “cried two little tears” she said later, and moaned, “I’m afraaaaaid.” I picked her up onto my hip like the toddler that she was not so long ago and told her it was okay. We were safe.

Corey rushed back to our side of the bank and we all stood there, hearts pounding, eyes wide. Frightened but exhilarated.

We continued on this path, but I had become nervous. Corey went to check out another opening in the path. However, Marley and I were too close to the water for my comfort, too low. I know alligators cannot climb steep banks, so I felt relatively safe up there. Down here, I felt like, well, a sitting duck. I continued to hold Marley like a baby and I noticed she didn’t squirm to get down. The size of the last two gators reminded me that they could break her in one hearty chomp.

I encouraged Corey to stop exploring now and start heading back. He took one more excursion toward the water and when I asked him to come back, Marley patted my hand and in a peaceful little voice said, “Stay calm, Mama. Stay calm.” She was patting my hand like a little old lady! She’s such a trip.

Definitely a nature walk to remember.

Marley handed out stickers to every single person who gave her candy last night. At every door she announced, “Trick or Treat. I’m a witch. I have stickers.”

Then she painstakingly took her sticker book out of her little bag, opened up to a specific page, picked and clawed at each sticker to get it off, placed it on the subject’s hand, then finagled the awkward, flopping book back into her bag.

She went through this lengthy routine before picking up a single piece of candy from the offerers. It was hilariously adorable. And people were all very patient through this little ordeal. She was so cute. Her natural generosity is inspiring.

She was a cute little witch too, I must say.

Marley’s elfin (elven?) qualities are unmistakable now. I actually wasted an hour of my life yesterday googling prosthetic elf ears for her (!)

She really loves this new haircut.  This morning, she was on her way out for “Pancake Day” with her Grampy.  She came into my bedroom to get the hair wax, “because you have to put the wax in before you go out, right Mama?”

Mostly I see that she holds her head higher, and appears more confident and empowered.  It’s funny.  I didn’t know it would make such a big difference for a four year old.  Silly me.

Just now, on the way home from ma’s, Marley’s “Happy Anniversary” balloon to us blew out the jeep window. She was devastated. It was her “favorite” balloon.

When she got home and told Grampy, he cheered her up with a story about getting her a gaZILLion balloons. While brushing her teeth, she pondered the thought.

Then she said something profoundly compassionate for a four year old. She said, “Mama, if we get all those balloons, maybe we can find kids who lost their balloons and give them some. Then they’ll be happy again.”

I was amazed that she could turn it around so quickly–understanding that other kids who lost their balloons would feel the same way she did. And caring enough about them to want to do something about it.

What a miracle she is.

Marley said today that she’s going to work in a warehouse when she grows up. I shuddered and explained that there are lots of fun and exciting jobs in the world. She exclaimed, “There are?!”

I told her she can swim with dolphins, or be a doctor (I had to throw that in of course), or even do Curious Creatures shows like Dad. She said, “Oh, I want to do Curious Creatures shows like Daddy.”

And I said, “Sure, or you could be a writer, like mama.”

She replied, “But I don’t know how to write the words.”

I said, “That’s ok, you’ll learn. You have 13 years of school left and then college.”

She asked, “What’s college?” very interested.

I explained, “College is school for grown ups.”

She got very excited. “Ohhh! Is college fun, mama?”

Ha! You’ve no idea kid. “Yes it’s fun. And there’s even such a thing as a women’s college.”

“You mean no boys go there?”

“That’s right.”

“I want to go to a girls college with no boys because I don’t like boys. They spit.”

Beautiful.

Marley’s playing resturant. As she sets the table, she asks me, “What would you like to order? I have chicken soup, chicken la-la, and chicken fahck.”