Our Daily Commute

 These are the worst of the puddles we traverse on the way to school.  We walk the back way, which is not very scenic but usually free from any traffic but foot and the occasional bicycle.  If the girls forget to wear their waterproof shoes, I usually hook them under the arms, lift them just enough, and wade through the sloggiest bits.

 During this walk the other afternoon, Bea, her cousin Eliora, and I arrived just in time to catch the last few minutes of Merry's last recess (they have two shorter ones a day instead of one long one).  She bounded over to the chain-link, her face glowing, sandwiched by two sweet friends.  The school holds recess in every sort of weather--that is, light rain and heavy rain.  And the kids love it.

 Eliora and Bea thought they deserved a rest before tackling the suddenly-empty playground. . .

 And then the girls walked out and joined us on the monkey bars. . .

Then we walked home.  The sky was already darkening but the day was just clear enough to reveal the Olympic Mountains, or at least a few of them.

We walk home over the practice fields and/the parking lots behind the middle school and community center, where the girls will take swimming lessons this winter.  There are ingenious crisscrossing paths all over town, through woods and into neighborhoods and shops, that link you seamlessly to your destination, often with minimal walking on busy streets.  If you look at the very right-hand corner of the photo, you'll see the peak of our little red house's roof.

The girls' contentment quotient (and ours) has gone up immensely due to the easy walk back and forth from school (and school starts at nine o'clock--most civilized).  To be able to walk and reach a place of significance--there's true happiness.