I remember summers as a child with a fond, warm heart. I don’t remember the rainy, stuck-inside days. Or days that I chose to stay inside to play with toys. What I remember most about those summers is the constant outdoors. The swinging. The chasing of birds and bunnies. The hide and seek. The swimming in the creek and eventually the above ground pool.

The running through Grandpa’s corn in the garden.

I am thrilled that the boys get to have the same experience in their great-grandfather’s cornfield as well. We spent some time at FireDad’s grandparents’ house while FireDad helped Gramps with some outdoor tasks. I took the opportunity to let them run up and down the rows.

The laughter coming from deep inside the rows made my heart warmer than the sun beating down on us. It also made me think of my days back on The Farm, the carefree summers I spent outdoors with various members of my family. I may love the city, but I also love the wide open spaces in our lives. I love their blatant enthusiasm for all things outdoor, even as much as they love technology. I know my Papau would be proud to know that the boys spent time running back and forth, getting corn stalk scratches and generally embracing the land.

I hope that someday these two wild and crazy (and loud) boys can look back on some of the things we do in the summer with the same sort of happy nostalgia that I do. Maybe they won’t remember all of this summer: our first summer of geocaching, many fishing trips, camping, carnival rides, playing in the park, swimming and, yes, the cornfield. But I will remember them.

I also hope I will remember how bright the sun was…

…and how LittleBrother — my moon spotter — found the moon before any of us did. (See small white spot in right hand side of photo.)

Lucky, lucky children in the corn.

_
[What are you doing with your last two weeks of summer (or...less)? Tell me and win $100!]