Following Kai

All day my mind had been elsewhere — in the past, in the future.

Then Kai and I went down to where the stream gives itself to the Salish Sea.

He found a stick, placed it in the moving water, and watched it travel toward the sea.

Another stick.

Then another.

His mother and auntie in the mudflats. His father resting on the beach.

Kai at the water’s edge.

Kai’s curiosity and creativity alight, before the world teaches him to want.

He followed each stick with his eyes — from high to low, carried by the current, where fresh runs to salt. Where the hill lets go and the tide receives.

One with earth.

Kai, my grandson, my guide to now.