Wandering

I've been trying to gently acquaint my seven-year-old with the notion that it isn't always necessary to pay attention to the signs or stay on the straight path. I think that's an important lesson to learn, it's just the subtle questions of "when" and "how" that he's still too young to understand. (He's already pushing back against my authority.)

When Little Stony Point proved far too crowded for exploring on Sunday afternoon, we pulled off further up the road, at an unmarked path. No idea where it would lead. Well, no, that's not entirely true — we knew we were headed more or less in the diection of the river, but we had no idea how far away it was (a good, long walk), or what we would find along the way (lots of wild raspberries).

At the river's edge, we found what I would later discover to be the remains of a brick yard (one of many up and down the banks of the river). It's funny, the things you didn't know you didn't know — that people collect bricks, for example, and maintain web sites with a wealth of information about that trade. (That was how I found out where I was.)

We spent the afternoon at the edge of the river. It was so much more fun in that it was completely unexpected.