naomi and micah found a spot not far from our home that they call “the old bridge.” naomi took off to read there this afternoon and when i went to get her, i thought i would record the journey.
you leave the grass of our yard to the concrete and gravel of the construction company’s parking lot,
go past the scrap pile
follow the path
peek in the storage shed
notice the beautiful “flowers”
and arrive at the old bridge
to the adult eye, this is a series of boards to keep someone’s feet out of the mud…to them it is a get-away.
and the wonder of escaping when home is simply obscured by the fence