In our "backyard"

I miss my blog, and I miss feeling like I have a real reason to update it ever. So the other day I thought I'd take out my camera, snap some pictures and build a post around them. I hadn't gotten out my real camera forever, and it is a great exercise, trying to capture moments I don't even notice most of the time and appreciate the things I take for granted. 

Spring has arrived in Okinawa, and the temperatures have jumped from the high '50s/low '60s to the '70s. There are still no bugs. We had nowhere to be because we went to Mass Saturday afternoon (leaving Joey with the babysitter to make it a tad easier for me with Tim away), and there was no CCD yesterday because of the holiday weekend. After some time spent putzing around with our Kindles, I sent us all outside. 

There's this amazing tree near the playground. It's the stuff of fairy tales and adventure stories. You can disappear inside it. You can climb the dense network of branches almost to the top, and there's a thick canopy of leaves that will keep you cool in the heat of summer. It is a tree meant for any kind of pretend game a kid could ever want to play. Not that the kids usually need any prompting to go play in the tree, but I brought my camera along and dropped several hints. The light is so perfect in there when the sun starts to get high. Note: If this tree had been in South Carolina, we would not be going inside because there would be snakes, spiders, gnats and mosquitoes in there. 

Timmy was in a battle with the neighbor boy.

There's something for everybody: a magical tree, a playground with a hard surface they can scooter and bike on, even a sweet little dog named Sushi for the 10-year-old who is obsessed with dogs. There are almost always other kids out playing, whose presence may or may not be appreciated by certain children of mine. Often there's a grownup for me to chat with. Kids routinely leave their bikes, Nerf guns and skateboards at the playground overnight, and find them there when they return. (This is not good training for reality, I know). The military communities I've lived in will always hold a special place in my heart, and this one is a real jewel.

This is all going to be a blip in our memories soon enough, but I want to make sure they can look back and think to themselves, this was a pretty amazing place to call home.