Well, it's Memories Monday again; where did the week go? My ambitious plan to add a post every day has certainly failed to turn into action!
I was taking photos of my daughter's feet in some puddles a few days ago, and it made me think about when I was a child and loved to jump in puddles and play in the rain. These days, I seldom allow myself time to engage in such silly fun, and I began by telling my daughter to "stop that and go inside, you're going to get dirty." Really, what difference does it make if she gets a little dirty? She is going to have a bath in the evening anyway! So, I stopped telling her to quit playing, and I grabbed the camera.
What I captured was a timeless look into the innocence of being a child. She had no other care in the world at that moment than making certain that the outline of her foot was imprinted into the cement, and watching the spray of water as she directed it into the driveway from the hose nozzle.
There was a time when I was at my first job telemarketing for a local newspaper, and I was on my mid-shift break about 7:00 in the evening on a cool spring night. My co-worker and I went outside to see the light rain that had begun to come down, and we both decided that there might not be another time in life that we would be free enough to stand out in it with our tongues outstretched and our faces to the sky. We stepped out and just absorbed the night, the air, the purity of Spring. We went back into work wet. We didn't care. We worked on the telephone where nobody would know we were a little rain-soaked when we spoke to them. We were correct. I have not again found a time when it was convenient to stand out in the night and absorb the wonder and joy of living in the mist of a spring rain.
We should all more often allow our children, and ourselves, to experience the simple joys of living. Here is to Puddles and Bare Feet.
My Etsy find that fit this memory was from a shop no longer in existence.
Until next week...