Yesterday, sometime after my parents and Ben left, Silas and Eden tumbled out the front door and began, for the first time really, to play in the yard. The weather has been warm -- our first sunny warm days in months -- and I heard the hose turn on, heard their play bobble between laughing hysterically and yelling at each other. I settled into the couch with my computer and caught up with emails and bills for the first time in weeks. And still they played. From where I sat on the couch, I couldn't see them but could see the street. A woman and her young daughter walked by and smiled a beaming smile at the spot where Silas and Eden were -- yes, I thought, a brother and sister so small playing so well in a yard, delightful! And I saw two boys, probably about 9 years old, bike by and yell hello's to them. Then at one point I glanced up and saw two women across the street pointing to the yard and craning their necks for a better view. What? Was it really an alarming crime to allow one's children to play outside alone? As it registered that they were looking not smiling or waving, I walked outside. First Silas and the side of the house -- not bad:
Then Eden's back:
Then the nearly unrecognizable daughter, mud caked around her eyes and matted along with sticks, in her hair:
Ah, a yard.