The Power of an Overpass

Here's a photo, among the others, of the boys up on the pedestrian overpass in Saratoga overlooking Hwy 85 yesterday. There aren't any of these in our town and I didn't realize crossing one would be as exciting for them as shaking Mickey Mouse's hand. In the midst of crossing it, we stopped and waved frantically. Many drivers waved or honked back.

"They know me now!" my son screamed, empowered and clearly feeling Godlike, which was partly true since just by our presence and interaction with the high speed drivers we were likely skyrocketing the percentage chance of a fatal accident by the second. To my 4 year old, it seemed as if the cars were emerging from a highway of anonymity and their unsuspecting passengers were being crowned with the glory of knowing us as soon as they passed under our feet. Ah, to be young. Even the boys' gorgeous little cousin EG waved and seemed awed by her baby powers up there on the skyway.

We then continued on to a park where EG had her first feel of grass, sand, swinging and sliding. It was a gorgeous 85 degree March day and as you can see, the boys felt privileged to be taking part in it and in their cousin's initial park experiences.

As we left the park and I reminded W not to dive into the buttery field of yellow flowers (due to allergies that make him look like he's been snorting cocaine for 48 hours after just one touch of the right kind of pollen), he looked up at me and said "But Mom, it's just so beautiful." Hearing your little male sportster whisper this in reference to flowers, not a three point basketball shot is heartwarming and I just got right down on my knees and kissed him all up. A good day, indeed.