Beauty in Brown

I remember reading somewhere (or maybe it's just become part of our local lore) before moving to the Pacific Northwest that the Morgantown/Pittsburgh area actually has more cloudy days than rainy Washington and Oregon. It's hard to say if that's really true, but this map makes it seem like we're at least giving that area some good competition. One thing I know for sure, it gets really brown here in the winter when the leaves fall and the snow melts.

What I love about walking around with my camera is that it helps me notice the subtle texture and beauty that exists in the most common things--even at this relatively colorless time of year. 

And of course, all these boys need is some boots, a ball, and some woods, and they're good to go.

Give them some water to throw rocks in, and you're golden. This waterfall has been hiding virtually in our back yard (it's how the overflow from the reservoir in White Park drains to the Mon River), and I only just discovered it this winter. 

Winter Respite: The Virgin Hemlock Forest

It's been a strange winter here, so I guess it's no surprise that we started our hike on Saturday in t-shirts. The Virgin Hemlock Trail is one of my favorites in any season--short enough that even slow-poke kids can do it, and with an enchanting other-worldly feel in parts, thanks to a large grove of hemlocks that's over 300 years old. 

In the summer you can walk through the creek to cool off. Saturday it reminded me so much of Oregon--the moss was so vibrantly green.

I love all the textures. We saw so many different varieties of lichen and moss (and this crazy spoor-filled puff ball above right).

My dad is a forester. He tried to teach Coban helpful things, like how you can identify a hemlock tree by turning the needles over to see if they have stripes on the back. Coban was much more interested in hooking the bungee cord he brought along to my Dad's belt loop or using it to haul logs he found along the trail. What can I say? He's 5.

I love how ice and water create such great compositions. If you haven't been, you should definitely check this trail out. It's also amazing in the snow.

Lil' Pumpkin Instincts

I have a stash of costumes in a drawer that my mom and grandmother made for me when I was a kid, and this year my construction-obsessed little boy decided he wanted to be a pumpkin. When I told my friends about it a few weeks ago, one said, "Um, does he actually want to be a pumpkin??"   

Turns out not so much. Thank god we had that firefighter costume from two years ago in reserve. (And as much as I liked the idea of him choosing such a sweet, non-commercial costume, I must admit, once we got it on over his jeans and started stuffing it with batting, it started to seem a bit too small.) 

You know what I liked about this last minute change-up? He felt uncomfortable in that pumpkin costume, and he immediately decided not to wear it. No second guessing. No feeling bad for the sad pumpkin. Or for his sad mother in her over-sized, overly jolly pumpkin suit (with tendrils! and a pumpkin leaf headdress!). No sir. 

There are lots of things to be learned from children. Their ability to trust their instincts and not over-analyze is something to emulate. And they don't even need a lifehack to know how to do it. (Though if you do, this article makes some good points.)