tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86670752422374891592011-09-13T09:53:29.203-07:00AndreaDoriahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06754421477970101454noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8667075242237489159.post-80634530180256667122011-05-27T17:50:00.000-07:002011-05-27T17:50:30.263-07:00Watching my 5.5 y/o swimming, floating on her back and enjoying a Friday early evening&nbsp;. I see things through her eyes: a lone small plane flying by, being brave to try the deep end; having the pool all to herself. Speaking with two boys close to her age. A bird&nbsp;sings nearby; but she doesn't hear it. It's part of the background noise, like the background noise to me is splashes of chlorinated water; excited breaths, jumping from land to water. <br /><br />Other sounds: Japanese conversation in the jacuzzi blended with the flutterkicks of the children. Pauses and then more mist from a recent dunk, a female voice mixing with the males around her. Gorgeous blue sky. <br /><br />Loving life.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8667075242237489159-8063453018025666712?l=cuprunsover.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AndreaDoriahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06754421477970101454noreply@blogger.com0