pastoral ponderings?

The Little Man and I went down to the Potomac this morning for a walk and had such a great time that he fell asleep in the car on the way home even before I turned off his really annoying musical mirror that plays such classics as "Head and Shoulders" and "Here We Go Looby Loo".

Mostly we nature watched. We saw a slender white heron hiding in the marsh reeds, multiple river birds sunning on sundry logs, Canadian geese, and an adorable snapping turtle (I think it was a snapping turtle--it was the size of the Little Dude--does that make it a snapping turtle?). We spent thirty minutes walking, studiously avoiding the bikers yelling "LEFT" as they swerved past a mere hair's breadth away, and then went down to the river to sit for a while. And continue our observations. Little Man and I smelled the freshly cut summer grass and watched the dragonflies flit around in electric blue slivers of excitement. When we felt we could absorb no more, we got back in the car and headed home. He took the aforementioned nap while I listened to a mix the Man made me when we were dating and read Erma Bombeck at the stop lights. Evidently, nature didn't have a long-term positive effect on my maturity level.