Monday, September 23, 2013

On our way

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Oh our walks!!
We take as many as we can,usually its a  struggle to get them going, but there are days when she is ready to get her big brother LONG before he needs to be gotten. These days are rare, so when they occur we take advantage and go, as slowly as we can, enjoying the mile as much as possible, and so much IS possible!


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I find myself in a habit of taking Portraits

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It truly is a lovely walk and the best part is the end when we gather up our Bear who always has so much to tell us. As he chatters away his little sister gets very tired and falls into a bliss-filled sleep.

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Hey mum, lets take a different way today. 
As she sleeps his curiosity awakens, he chooses the road less traveled,"please mum can we go THIS way?"  He loves to explore and he leads us to beauty we never knew existed.

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A beautiful walk is happily descovered by a boy wheo exclaims proudly "I told you this was a great way!" " I Knew it would be BEAUTIFUL, SEEE!!!"
Then, like a cherry on a five year olds Cake, a tower, and behind the interesting edifice, a playground, lovely and quiet

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We discover so much joy on our walks.

so for your reading pleasure, a few favorite walk-themed poems


His...


Lines and Squares

by A. A. Milne
 
Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet;
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who tread on the lines of the street
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
Just look how I'm walking in all the squares!"

And the little bears growl to each other, "He's mine,
As soon as he's silly and steps on a line."
And some of the bigger bears try to pretend
That they came round the corner to look for a friend;
And they try to pretend that nobody cares
Whether you walk on the lines or squares.
But only the sillies believe their talk;
It's ever so portant how you walk.
And it's ever so jolly to call out, "Bears,
Just watch me walking in all the squares!"




And mine...



The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


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