A Walk in the Park

          Over the past few weekends, I’ve spent time with Pelé in the park near our apartment. We currently live near Frog Park which is both more linear and yet more natural than your typical urban park. Early last year, I regularly carried a much smaller Pelé on a walk through this same park to show him life outside of our apartment walls. Recently he is a different kid, transformed by the magic of walking from the baby he was to the little boy he is today. Since he is a boy, there is much boy stuff which I assume to be innate, and yet I am frequently surprised to learn how wrong I am making that assumption. At the park, I assumed that he would be drawn to Eucalyptus acorns, and was flabbergasted to see him toddle past them without a glance. Those things were treasures (perfect ammo!) when I was a kid. I soon realized that he was also oblivious to all the leaves, sticks, and bark on the ground. Raw earth and tree litter are clearly not what he expects to find there and so they usually serve as impromptu challenges, a toddler’s parcourse of obstacles. I hope they are not analogous to throw rugs and pillows in his mind, and have vowed to show him how much fun they can be.
          At Mamae’s urging this morning, Pelé and I went on a walk through the park while she put together breakfast. My goals this trip were to show him the cool stuff he had been ignoring, and to let him go where he wanted, doing what he wanted to do (within reason). One of the nice things about this park is that most of it is not adjacent the street. He can run around, and I don’t have to worry about him running after traffic. His interest in cars and wheels has its dangers. On this particular trip, we went at an early hour, and so had the park to ourselves, allowing Pelé free reign to toddle and dawdle further from me than normal. I let him climb piles of mulch, and venture amongst the boulders and shrubs. He loved it.
          Halfway through this father-son adventure, Pelé started collecting those silvery Eucalyptus caps from the leaf litter off the path, and arranging them on a boulder. I beamed with pride. All I had to do was show him one, and suddenly he could spot them in the crazy carpet of detritus. (Admittedly the caps are white while everything else is a shade of brown. Its not like he’s a natural Ranger Rick or Davy Crockett, but still it makes a father proud.) It reminded me of how my world had changed when I took a plant identification class. The world suddenly wasn’t just trees, shrubs, and grass anymore. Aiming to make more of a boy out of him, I next showed him how to use a stick to retrieve something out of reach. The full lesson was not absorbed. I think improvised tool use might be a little advanced at fifteen months, but at least he knows how to find a stick now.
          We will see what Mamae says next time she goes to the park and Pelé goes running off into the bushes, and picking things up off the ground.