Biking, Hiking and Contemplating

The sun was warm, the snow was melting, and the day was beautiful, perfect to be outdoors.  So, we tossed our son’s bike in the car and drove to the Columbia Trail in Hunterdon County.  My son loves to ride his bike and as soon as we parked the car his patience bubbled over.  He did not want to hold a hand as he walked through the parking lot and crossed the street to the beginning of the trail but begrudgingly he eventually gave in, realizing that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t get to ride at all.  As soon as it was safe, he jumped on his bike and took off.  It was his first experience biking off road, but no one ever would have guessed, since he handled the gravel path like a pro.  He even accelerated just before the piles of snow, plowing through them without the slightest fear that he might wipe out. The Columbia trail runs along the Raritan River and at one point a hiking path branches off from the bike trail and leads down to a waterfall.  Had we planned to hike instead of bike, my son would have dug in his heels and refused to budge, but once he saw the path and the decision was his to make he insisted on hiking down to the waterfall.  I agreed to carry his bike, just happy to be outdoors and doing something physical.  The hike to view the falls was short and my son was disappointed that he could not walk right up to them, but the drop was steep and so the path had stopped at a small wooden bench.  “But I want to hike more,” my son insisted, and so I pointed to another path that led down to the river.  He took charge leading the way, insisting as always that we follow him and don’t stray from his command.  Halfway down the path he paused to sit on a log and gaze out at the river rushing downstream in front of him.  If only I could have gotten into his head, he sat so quietly, I would have loved to have known what thoughts entered his mind.  He did not find the idea of climbing up the hill as appealing as hiking down, but after a few minutes of grumbling, he charged ahead back to the bike path.  We could tell he was tired but he wasn’t ready to go home.  He wanted to bike further and so we let him.  Racing ahead he greeted everyone he passed with an enthusiastic hello, while we trotted behind. 

By the time we got home, we thought he was exhausted, but instead of wanting to rest, he took out his scooter and rode around near our house.  As he rode, he loudly and excitedly sang a song that he wrote himself – his first poem/song:

            It’s spring now, it’s spring now

It’s spring now, it’s spring now.

The flowers are blooming

And no more snow.

The flowers are blooming

And no more snoooooooooow.

As he sang, I smiled.  Listening to his voice and hearing his words, I had to wonder what prompted him to sing, what sparked the flow of lyrics?  Is that what he had been contemplating as he sat on the log overlooking the river – the coming of spring?  He may only be four, but he never stops amazing me with the things he says and the things he does.