Zoo

After two weeks of nonstop rain the restless energy in the bungalow reached fever pitch levels. The Bear woke up Tuesday morning, peeked out the window and said, "Let's go to the zoo!"

I really really really did not want to go to the zoo.

So we went to the zoo.

I dropped Babe off at Bella's house and took off with Bear and Cubby for a morning of unbearable heat.

Now I should clarify that I love the zoo. Our zoo is wonderful. Great classrooms, fantastic animal exhibits, we are constantly learning there! But our zoo is HUGE...and not in a good way. A massive sprawling zoo, completely outdoors and totally impossible to complete in one morning with two toddlers. Throw in ninety degree weather topping one hundred on the heat index and pour in a hot soup mixture of humidity and well, you can understand why I did not want to go to the zoo.

The boys shrieked and cheered when they heard where we were going. They love the zoo. When we turned into the long driveway entering the zoo they began kicking their legs and squealing out the names of their favorite animals. I took note of the heat waves rising off the concrete. Once they started asking for animals located at opposite ends of the zoo, I made an executive decision, announcing that we could each pick one area of the zoo to visit before returning home. The Bear picked his favorite place, the aviary. Cubby selected the Children's Zoo and I told them we would go to a secret spot after we finished there.

Wings of Asia is a beautiful display. Tented and packed with bamboo forests and trees, a cool river runs through the exhibit and there are plenty of waterfalls and small ponds. The exotic birds inside are spectacular and my boys love watching them.

Ok, fine.

They love chasing them. But once in a blue moon they do love watching them peacefully from the sidelines. That moon is quite blue, by the way...

So there we were, wandering through the bamboo forest, total peace and quiet, shattered occasionally by the sound of my voice screaming out my middle son's name as he tried various ways of killing himself via waterfall drowning or losing an eye to the seven foot tall crane following us. The Bear tip toed down the path in hopes of catching a partridge unawares.

The humidity swirled around us, the mosquitos abundant and hungry. Yes, a very normal day at the zoo.

And then I spotted an elderly man sitting on a bench. An expensive camera hung from his neck, a brown sack lunch fixed at his side. He was dressed in a suit and hat, despite the hot weather. His face had wrinkles in happy spaces, laugh lines like sunbursts mapped outwards and immediately drew me in.

I love elderly people. Have I mentioned this before? I love talking to them, or rather, I love listening to them. I think toddlers and elderly folks are the best story tellers on the planet. I could listen all day.

We met Ted. Who is originally from Switzerland and frequents the Wings of Asia display on a daily basis. Thats right, he goes to the zoo every day and spends each hour in a lovely bamboo forest full of birds. He likes to photograph them, he says, laugh lines stretch upwards, tufts of white hair peak out from under his hat. I end up taking his arm and he shows us around the place. He knows where all the nests are, knows the name of each bird and where they like to hide. He knows the treasures of this space. He gazes at my children, drawing from their energy, I can see his heart lifting as he takes in their giggles. Looking at them seems to fill his soul and he hangs on to my arm a bit tighter. He tells me about his family, his brother in particular. His eyes mist as he speaks of that brother and he stares into the distance, looking back only to watch the little brothers ambling down the path behind us.

We shared the better part of an hour with Ted. Precious time, well spent. When we reached the end of the exhibit, I held his hand and kissed his cheek. His bushy eyebrows lifted, as did one corner of his smile and a sweet blush covered his weathered cheeks.

We parted ways, all smiles and waves. The boys and I ventured off into the blazing sun once more, the slow shuffle of feet just behind us, retreating back into the cool shade of the bamboo.

After a half hour ramble in the reptile house at the Children's zoo, we fed a small army of goats near the new barn. The boys are quite red by now, damp faces and dirty knees too. Their bodies emitting smells of summer, sweat, grass...they smelled a bit like goat food as well.

"Time for Mom's adventure!" I announce.

I lead them to the ice cream cart and we order two scoops of vanilla. Then we walk to the tiger exhibit to sit and eat and watch. A little bench stands in front of the tiger's keep, shaded by a nice old oak tree. They sit with me, one on each side. We watch the tiger for half an hour. Have you ever watched a tiger for half an hour?

We did. It was lovely. Even after the ice cream dribbled away, belly bound or sidewalk smattered, we sat together, watching, waiting. Pointing things out, laughing, learning, always learning. And then silence for a few blessed moments...

The boys, thinking about tigers and sword fights with each other.

Their mother, thinking about the shuffle of feet in the stillness of a bamboo forest and the small bodies flanked on either side of her, the little heartbeats she loves so very much.

We ran back to the car, their sneakers pounding on the pavements, their small voices shouting, "Lets do this again and again and again and again!!"

How wonderful that we will :)