Dear Rowlets
dear rowlets,
I learned something recently. A little owl is called an owlet. And you three are clearly my wise little owls and our last name happens to be Rowley, so it's official: you are the Rowlets. Oh how I love this.
We had a wonderful morning, girls. It is a beautiful day and we decided to go to the carousel. Your cousin is here visiting and he came with us and we walked and walked. And it should have been a pretty quick stroll, but it wasn't because we got lost. Woefully lost. And this is silly because I grew up going to the carousel and Daddy and I take you all the time, but we did it. We got lost. You guys should know that you have a mother who kind of likes to get lost.
We walked through the park. We spotted so many horses or "neigh-neighs" as you like to call 'em, Little Girl.
I looked around as we walked and it hit me: We live here. In this amazing city where I spent my childhood. What a gift to be able to raise you girls in this magical place where I was raised, where I too was a little owl.
There was this man making amazing bubbles. We stopped and watched. You were mesmerized.
I got a picture of you standing on the rocks looking up at the buildings, at the brilliant blue sky.
After a lot of wandering and some morning snow cones that tumbled to the ground but were saved and scraped with a ballpoint pen, we made it there and I hoisted you up to the horses and strapped you in and I stood back and my eyes misted up and I smiled because my goodness there you were, my three little babes, doing what I used to do, riding around and around.
We went twice. For the first ride, I stood behind you, spotting you, making sure you were safe. But then. I got on a horse too and it was the four of us Rowley girls in a line, a mama owl and her owlets, being young and having fun on a sweet summer day.
I will not forget this day, my girls. Know two things: You make me very happy and I love you to teeny tiny pieces of sky.
