This morning Josiah and I had a most glorious little stroll through the neighborhood. It has been so ghastly outside in recent weeks and it’s been hard having a baby who loves to be outside and not wanting to go. But this morning, we took a nice stroll. There was a bit of a cool breeze, the puffy white clouds were moving quickly by in the beautiful Florida sky. I guess it’s only about 80. Now, before Florida, hearing it’d be 80 degrees at 8 in the morning would have turned me off. But after what the last couple of weeks have been like, that was refreshingly cool! So we enjoyed it.
Image: Bygosh.com
Josiah has found his shadow. I think he’s seen shadows for a long time…even when he was a little lump that would just lay there in my lap while we were outside in the mornings to keep him from crying. I think he saw our shadow against the wall. Anyway, this morning, the whole world was going on around him, and he focused behind us on his shadow the whole time (well, in front of us on the first leg because of where the sun was!).
I remembered a poem from Robert Lewis Stevenson’s “Child’s Garden of Verses” from growing up. So I thought I’d share 2 verses in honor of Josiah liking to watch his shadow.
The child in the poem is somewhat annoyed by the shadow’s “stickiness”, but I know a child would say this and secretly be thankful for a friend who sticks so close. In some ways, Josiah has become our little shadow; mostly mine during the days. But he is so fascinated with Scott now and watching everything he does. I know he’ll be trying to imitate and emulate him as soon as is possible. Right now he’s just soaking it in.
Like our little shadow.
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow–
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes goes so little that there’s none of him at all…- My Shadow By Robert Louis Stevenson
See the full poem here, or of course, in the collection “Child’s Garden of Verses“
