The Mountain

Every day in September it was the same thing, Maddie:
Is it cold enough to go to the mountain?
When can we go to the mountain?
How cold does it need to be to go to the mountain?
Is it going to be cold enough tomorrow?
Can we go tomorrow?
What if we got up at 6 am on Saturday?
Then could we go? huh? Please?!

And then, in late October when it finally got cold enough that I was satisfied the snakes would be tucked in for their long winter's nap, every day after school was rush, rush, rush: gotta get to the mountain.

Collin and Alayna are waiting!
We're working on our fort today! I need to go!
I'll clean that later ...
I did my homework in the car.

So Daddy and I decided it was time to get ourselves to the mountain and see the fort you've been spending so much time on.

You spotted us coming from your high perch and directed us to the best ways to bi-pass cactus, crumbling rock ledges, and sheer drop offs.
(Who are your parents anyway? Do they know you're up here?)

Upon our arrival, Alayna handed me one of these little blue rocks and told me I could keep it. Seems it is your currency.
Quite an honor, I thought.


Great view of the high school football field.

I scanned the area for the fort you had spoken of so concretely. Apparently, it's whatever flat spot you find and decide to hang out on for that day.

Guess you got tired of hauling that wood around.

Thanks for welcoming us in.
Thanks for letting Jack hang with you.

I'm glad you're having fun.

But I don't want to hear anymore about your rock slides or poking sticks into snake holes.

And if Collin and Alayna find another cardboard box large enough to serve as The Bathroom;
just say no.