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How much, how little
Wednesday, July 9, 2014 at 12:44PM On Sunday evening, after church services and a fellowship had concluded, we drove the five miles downtown to Finlay Park so that Dagny could see it for the first time.
Finlay Park is fourteen acres of lush greenery and walking paths and moving water (culminating in a fountain that reminds me of a lopsided tiered cake), situated across Laurel Street from the Governor's Mansion and overlooking the Columbia skyline.
Such as it is. Columbia's skyline is smallish but interesting enough, with a singularly southern vibe.
And whoever wishes may contemplate its particular charms while lolling on one of many long swings set up above the fountain overlooking the park and Columbia's quiet streets below.
The thing about Finlay Park is, on a mild summer evening (such as we certainly had), it is a truly lovely place from which to watch the birds swoop and dive, hear the fountain's bubbly splash, and ponder life as the sky darkens and city lights begin to twinkle.
Dagny, our darling treasure, slept through the entire excursion.
The activities of the day had worn our little baby out.
Uncle Andrew (who was home for the weekend) toted his niece in her carrier from the car and parked her between me and Audrey on one of the swings.
If you know of something cuter and more precious than a tiny baby sleeping peacefully, I would like to know what it is.
Puppies come (a close but definite) second so don't say puppies.
Anyway, I spent a good deal of time looking at Dagny, examining each eyelash and each curl, watching her breathe, taking in all the innocence of her impossibly tiny and incredibly perfect hands and feet.
She's a specimen, I thought for the millionth time in twenty-two days. Excellence in female children. Dagny Clare, the adorable and adored.
And as the sky pale-blued to deeper-blued, then pinked and purpled, then darkened to reveal a small bright piece of moon, Dagny remained motionless, lost in her baby dreams.
She missed the several minutes we all watched as two jet airliners cruised overhead, closer together than I can remember ever having seen two jet airliners cruise overhead.
Winking silver in the waning sunlight they progressed southward as we marveled.
I said, as I always do, as if you have been paying attention you know I loathe the prospect of air travel: Thanks but no thanks, I'll stay on the ground.
I am however, as I know you know, endlessly entertained by the changing sky.
From our lazy swings (for our party of six occupied two) we chatted with passers-by who exclaimed over Dagny's overwhelmingly sweet newborn-ness.
Children in one party had been promised ice cream after the park, so we advised them to eat lots and savor every sugar-frosty lick-nibble.
As far as I am concerned, that is the definitive "buy low, sell high" tip of childhood.
If Dagny kenned anything of the goings-on, there were airplanes and salmon-colored clouds and birdies and ice cream cones woven into her slumber.
Eventually the sky took on that she-wore-blue-velvet look it gets when the clock goes nine-ish and the temperature is moderate and humidity is relatively low (for South Carolina in July) and the breezes are not only agreeable, but engagingly playful.
The cicada population were long silent for that calendar day, but a few fireflies winked in a saucy dialog with the Finlay Park lights casting their strong glow and the city buildings shining, waiting beyond, hours from the bustle of Monday morning business as usual.
We picked up our snoozing beloved baby and as we did, I thought of all the times (God willing) Dagny'll come back with us to Finlay Park, and she won't be sleeping.
She'll swing on a swing and skip on a path and stand in the fountain's spray and gaze at the birds and the clouds, and we'll promise her ice cream afterwards.
I can't wait.
And that is all for now.
=0=0=0=
In this short Life
That only lasts an hour
How much -- how little -- is
Within our power
= Emily Dickinson =
=0=0=0=
Happy Wednesday
Reader Comments (4)
What a neat place to visit...and Dagney is Still, a doll...
Enjoy!
hughugs
What a beautiful park! It looks like the perfect way to spend an evening, or in Dagny's case, a great place for a nap.
The pictures at Finlay Park are so beautiful...but what tears at my heart is the sweet little face, and petite hand and foot of Dagny Clare Weber. Contented baby that one!!
G.
I felt as if I was there with you.
I often wonder, as I also chronicle the lives of my grandchildren, if they will appreciate the depth of information on their growing years that will be available to them. Don't you wish you had such stories of your childhood? I do. Foggy memories no more, as you could verify almost every memory with the corresponding grandma or mommy blog post!
It's a brave new world, hopefully.
My bit of deep thinking for the day.