but we do sometimes wander to the end of the road past our road, pausing to gather the sparkliest rocks or catch bits of cotton suspended in air honeyed with late evening sun.
quiet things grow there, a field of young green (past the brush) that is not soybeans and is not corn. we'll have to keep checking back to find out what it becomes.
sometimes we journey to far-off places on the pages of our morning work. (to the moon, in this case, where there are laser-wielding aliens to be battled and astronauts to aid.)
at other times, bits of wonder travel to us in the form of thoughtful gifts:
(are you not in love with this packaging? the delicate smattering of stars, the 'hello, shouldn't you wear this now?')
internet, meet my new earrings (14k goldfill + 1950's venetian lampwork beads). these beauties came from the lovely geeta, famous for her leather blooms and delicate metalwork. geeta is a london-transplant and an inspired designer and also my friend.
but truth be told, even when we do voyage to exotic climes, the verybest of our summer adventures inevitably take place here
in the green and the shade of our very own backyard, where dogs scale tricksy heights and ride on tire swings
(and where we build forts and play world cup tournaments and gather worms and dance in the sprinklers).
some would say we are missing out, my children are missing out, but i think not. i'd surmise that cultivating the ability to find wonder in everyday spaces will yield a lifetime of adventure.