Peggy & I went for a walk in the woods this evening with our daughters, Dawn & Suzy. The whole night was a great metaphor I can't resist sharing.

We two moms were on the same path as our daughters. Sometimes they blasted ahead of us and we hurried to catch up and sometime we waited for them to catch up when they were distracted by a swarm of ants, a frog, or lightening bugs.

Once, Suzy waited for us to catch up to her to point out a fatally injured squirrel, in its last gruesome throes. It's not often in our air conditioned lives we witness this moment in the circle of life. She was fascinated. I didn't want to look.

The path forked, with one path crossing a stream that was perfect except for the unnaturally orange water. Peggy & I watched as our daughters scrambled down for a closer look.

They were beautiful and daring, cooperative and challenging with each other. We moms watched from the bridge, murmuring our concerns to each other, but not really wanting to stop them.
That water looks rusty and the rocks look slippery.
New shoes.
Poison Ivy.
I don't want to go down there and fetch an injured one.

But we didn't stop them. We sometimes called out advice and encouragement,
Are you OK?
Try another route back.
Watch for leaves of three.
- but mostly we watched.

When the sun began to set, we waited for our daughters at the fork in the road to make sure they were headed down the path toward home.

Suzy tried Dawn's bike. She's still learning even though she's 9. I tried to help her balance. Dawn advised, "Relax and good things will happen."

I took that walk to relax. Dawn was exactly right. It was a good thing.