Wildwood and the boy

Sam and I are spending a couple of quiet, delightful days in the canyon at the cabin with my grandparents before I drop him at camp on Monday.

The river is high and wild so no rope bridge or river swing this year. Sam's been busying himself with constructing elaborate waterways from stones, building boats, reading on the deck, making a leather satchel with Grandpa Pax (who always has great ideas and endless supplies and patience), napping in the hammock, and experimenting with watercolor paints.

Bliss, I tell you. And, sometimes, so poignant and memory-layered that it almost hurts, like the perfect moments of a summer twilight.