I found the punk sitting comfortably under this beautiful Japanese maple, enjoying a warm oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. This natural chamber is perfectly punk-sized. He can sit on the old railroad tie or stand upright under the bowed branches. If he were wearing camo, I wouldn't be able to see him.
It made me think of the "secret" places in which I used to find sanctuary as a child. The woodpile on the north side of my house (where I once punctured my bare foot with a rusty nail). The tunnel-like trail behind Grandpa's cabin; it was the only way to get from the cabin to the "Indian caves" via the alfalfa field, without having to squeeze through a barbed wire fence. Although it was a main thoroughfare, we girls thought it was our secret hideout and were infuriated when we found the boys back there.
In addition to meditating with a sweet treat, the punk enjoys spying on the neighbors...
"Look at that man!"
And being ferocious.
He discovered these beautiful flowers and picked one, which we put in a vase inside. Later, my man told me they are chives. No wonder they smell funny! Nevertheless, the punk lovingly named his little pet Flower Bell.
I showed the punk our first strawberry! Then I immediately regretted my foolishness when I remembered that he was so excited to see a jalapeno in the adjacent pot that he tore half the plant apart. We'll see how long this little berry lasts under the punk's supervision.
After busying myself inside for a few minutes, I looked out the window to see the punk donning his dad's hat and work gloves.
He is at the age where he has really started to look up to his daddy. Here, he's checking out the sprinklers and puttering around the yard, just like his old man.
He even has his dad's "don't take my picture" expression down!