
The first evening I was at Pippin’s house on my recent visit, little Jamie lay on his tummy on a blanket and watched from the lawn as his mother did her gardening. You can see him as a white spot near the center of the picture below.


Another day, he gazed up at the trees contentedly while Mom pushed his brother and sister in the swings a few feet away. We laughed about how well camouflaged he was among the leaves and dappled sunlight. I imagine that the changing light and shadows were what kept him entertained.

(If humans are busy in the back yard, the deer keep to the front.) >
When I was a young mother I also set my babies up in the yard while I was out there, but as I recall, some liked it better than others. Now I can’t remember which ones preferred to be indoors, and which would happily soak up the fresh air and open spaces.
I feel I must paste in a closer-up picture, too, to prove that Jamie was not fussing.
Last time I saw Pippin’s gar
den was in May, when planting had barely begun; it is full of lovely things now, with ever more dahlias (inside the deer fence) – and the zinnias that the deer don’t usually eat. They’ve refrained so far this year. It gets so cold in the forest there, she has to dig up the tubers before winter and replant them, along with some new acquisitions, in the spring.



The older children like to be in the garden, too. When Scout made a messy puddle by the gate Pippin was annoyed, but calm. After the hose was turned off Scout announced, “That ant is walking on water!” and we all crouched down to see how the surface tension and the dust did make a way for the insect to get across the lake that had instantly appeared in his world.

All of this happened on my departure day; I had to force myself to leave the fun and start on the long drive home. I’d like to return soon, but I have my own garden babies, tiny seedlings of greens, to take care of now. And my next trip will be in the opposite direction, to be with other loved ones, in other mountains. More on that to come.

from Washington DC for a few days – it was a joy. When your children are spread over thirteen years, they don’t all get the same upbringing or hear the same stories. We went to the beach and sat on a log for a long time talking and catching up.
ongoing legacy.















t fun was riding the little steam train that winds around among the oaks and conifers. Liam took careful note with a serious countenance of the scenery going past, but Laddie has little patience for sitting still, so he was glad to get off again and run. We soon were picnicking on pasties and lemon cake that Joy had brought, and then decided to look at the 






