Conversations While Walking

It’s a glorious warm autumn day in Houston, the kind of day that tempts people to move here, only to have their lives shattered by August ten months later.

On days like this, when we have no where else to go, Lillian and I sometimes walk the mile or so home from school along the small bayou (or, as you might call it, drainage ditch) where there are sticks and wild flowers to find, and grass to pick, and squirrels and birds to chase.

Today, Lillian found a small branch. She pointed to a large gooey brown pile in the grass.

“ePa,” she said, “What’s that?”

“Dog poo,” I said.

“Is it GranAnne’s dog’s poo?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh. Is it some other dog’s?”

“Probably.”

“Do all dogs poo?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Why?”

(ePa attempts to distill his vast knowledge of biology and canine excretory systems into language a four-year old might understand): “Just because.”

“Ok. Do Jack-o-Lanterns poo?”

“I don’t believe they do. No.”

“Why?”

“Look, Lillian, over there: it’s a squirrel. Go chase it.”

Let’s Go, ePa!

Lillian and her great-grandmother and I went over to the Russ Pitman Nature Center in Bellaire this morning. Her great-grandmother sat in the shade (when you’ve gotten to the age where your body can no longer tolerate cold, Houston in the summer has a certain appeal), and Lillian and I went strolling.

Lillian isn’t actually much of a stroller: she’s more a combination of runner — dancer — jumper — prancer, but she stops often enough to watch spiders and squirrels and flowers that her old and slow ePa can still keep up. There’s a rabbit in a pen there; Lillian tries to engage him in conversation, but he just wrinkles his nose and ignores her.

Even at the advanced age of three, Lillian is sure to make an experimental splash in every puddle in the park, and always sticks her hand in the goldfish pond to wave at the fish. And, after a few minutes at each stop, she tugs on her grandfather’s finger. “Let’s go, ePa,” she says, and we’re off until something else strikes her fancy.

Walking in the Park

On the last day of May, Lillian and I went for a walk at the Houston Arboretum and Nature Center in Memorial Park. Lillian’s theory of walking has two parts: 1) run, stopping when there is something interesting to look at like a bug or a stick or a flower; 2) get grandpa to carry her when she’s done running.

 

Stepping Out: A Video

Walking and Talking