charmed and disarmed

Just back from a weekend at my family's cottage with my ma, pa, sister, bro-in-law, and their two kids. My niece is almost 3 and my nephew is 1.

Last night, sitting up on a big flat high warm rock that overlooks the little bay and the sunset, my niece sat in my lap, snuggled in close so her curls were brushing my cheek as we talked in low voices to each other. Some ravens were having a loud and lengthy negotiation, hidden in the trees, their gravelly calls echoing across the water. The sky was pale blue and looked high and flat. There were pink clouds in the south. Other than the ravens, the evening was quiet and still.

When the ravens stopped, we had a few minutes of chatting over the silence about tomorrow's possible adventures (canoeing, swimming, looking for blueberries), when a loon started singing. In a hushed voice I said to Pegret, "Oh listen Pegret... loons! I love the sound of loons." "Why?" Pegret asked (because she is that age). "Because I do. And one of my favourite things is to fall asleep listening to loons." "Why?" "Because I always have good dreams when I fall asleep thinking of things that I like." She thought about this for a second, and then replied very seriously, "I like trees." Oh, me too Pegret.