Marching, Marching, Hiking, Hiking

And my reward for the toddler train-viewing dash: After we waved goodbye to the choo-choo, Isaac and I took the most wonderful walk along the trail that skirts the backside of our neighborhood and borders some open space. We wandered through side trails and let the grasses brush through our fingers as we went; we dug in the dirt; we let the sun's warmth dry our hands; we splashed in muddy puddles; we broke ice under our feet; we walked and chanted together, "Marching, marching, hiking, hiking." All of this because we heard a train's whistle. Surely this day was a gift.