Magnolia Blossom

I love those first warm days of spring.  We went for a walk on a sunny Sunday afternoon and let the sunshine warm us clear through the bone.  The girls brought their strollers.  And babies.  The blue-bird stopped every six inches, demanding sweetly "Wha' DAT?!"  The Daddy and I took it in shifts, staying with the tiny inquisitor, keeping up with Motor-legs the monkey.  It was my turn to hold the soft, tiny hand.  My turn to meet the honest blue eyes and explain about individual blades of grass and diamonds of chain link.  My turn to slow the pace, indulge in the awesome everyday details.  I savored Louie's hearty sweetness; like a warm oatmeal chocolate chip cookie in my mouth.  She held " Babita" so as to give her plastic head a better view of a dandelion.  I looked ahead.  I saw my other sweethearts had reached our target.  Curly had parked "Cinderella Baby" in her stroller in the shade of an iconic magnolia tree.  She was up on his shoulders, sniffing a blossom.  Their silhouette was gray and back-lit under an umbrella dripping pink and ivory.  I took a picture in my mind.  And here it is.