Father, daughter….East Fork, San Gabriel River. 4/28/12
She’s all smiles, heat, sunlight
a laughing chatterbox
bouncing down the trail.
Calling out the world that surrounds us, making it hers.
No complaints, shouldering the pack with complete acceptance,
we have to go out of our way to cross streams at their deepest,
and in the longest possible way.
Climbing trees and balancing on logs,
everything here is a game.
We put up camp, explore the perimeter, eat.
She settles in beside me to read.
I catch her brushing her hair aside with a casual flick
and I can briefly see the woman that she will be.
Mine and yet not mine,
on the river.