I have never lived anywhere that I couldn't smell the imminence of fall. I wonder what it would be like, how I would cope, if I couldn't feel the air cooling and smell the leaves crispening and watch the twilight fall earlier. I am wistful and hopeful all at the same time. In honor of the imminence of fall, and to savor the waning days of warmth, we mounted the Swan Boats in the public garden this past weekend. I don't know why we are so delusional to think that Baby Girl would be kicking back and just letting the college kids pedal her along the Public Garden basin, like she was just going to sit and admire the romance of the weeping willows (WE REALLY BE TRIPPIN'?!?).
Of course, once on the boat, Baby Girl immediately wanted to reach over into the duck poop-laden water. She was not impressed with the lack of hilly inclines, the lack of musical accompaniment. Rather, the little man-mad slab of cement where the "Duck makes the poopy" made the biggest impression on her, and no doubt it would on you, too, if you were 19 months-old.