What is a boy to do when he’s apple blossom-new but the world is growing older by the sunbeam? That’s the dilemma of the late-summer born baby. There isn’t much time to become acquainted with bright warmth and summer smells.

Teddy took his first stroller stroll around his neighborhood, guarded by an entourage which transforms the widths of sidewalks into a grand boulevards. He slept through the parade. I documented the walk because it’s one he won’t have a chance of remembering.

After school afternoons are always claimed by homework done with a side of pretzels to munch. Then there is dinner, barely eaten because of all those pretzels. Last night, it was still light and warm after we ate our huevos divorciados. We snapped open the stroller and set off.

The moon went dutch with us. It chipped in half.

It was the dusk of dusk.

As we walked, we noticed a neighbor with binoculars aimed at a tall tree. We stopped to squint at the tree. The neighbor offered her binoculars.

The photo doesn’t do any favors for the owl we saw with the borrowed binoculars. It was enormous. Aidan named it Georgia the Owl. I think that name is too gentle for what it had in mind for the night. Grendel the Owl, perhaps.

We stopped a lot on our walk. Maybe next time I should ask if everyone wants to go on a stop after dinner?

Get your shoes on, we are going on a stop! In between stopping, we will walk a bit until something captures our eyes.