I watch my son rake leaves. He sings as he goes oblivious to me on patio. He takes, kicks a ball, rakes more and keeps in song. He drinks a Coke his grandfather gave him, happy too for the treat. He walks back to the house, sees me in my chair.
“Oh hi!” he speaks with a smile. He tells me the rest of his immediate plan. “After I get done raking leaves, I’m going to jump in them; and then we can shoot my BB gun!”
It is a beautiful day to be a boy.