There are moments at the farm that are like poetry and magic ... so sublime and beautiful that I know I'm witnessing the pure essence of a child emerge and speak.
This is a moment of Samson ... it was so.oo.oo beautiful, I almost felt my heart burst with love for him.
We were in the chorale in the sun at the end of the day on Wednesday. Samson's request after our hours at the Oak tree.
Samson sat in the sand and smoothed out a place in front of him. He gave a little .. 'hmm..mm..' as he surveyed what he'd done and then sat inside the oval/slash circle and just sat for a moment ... as if trying on for size the space he'd just created.
Next thing he moved his finger in the sand, taking a quick sideways glance my way as if to check I was there to witness.
He drew and said, 'Hmm..I think I'm drawing the sun.'
Then added, 'Yes, I think it is the sun.'
Then in great excitement as he finished, 'Yes, that is. I did, I did. I drew the sun. danella, I drew the sun, look, look.'
Which I did of course and appreciated immensely, as I'd been there to witness Samson trusting himself outloud as he drew.
Next thing he lifted a finger and drew a little circle just below and to the right of the sun ... in the South East so to speak, saying, 'I think that looks like a cloud.' Then looking and agreeing with himself, that indeed it did.
He then made an agreement outloud, 'I think I need more clouds in the sky like this.' ... and he drew and talked with himself as he did. Gently appreciating himself all the way round. Occasionally peeking to see that I was there to witness ... and I was.
Finally he was done and was full of wonder at himself, 'danella ... look what I did.' He said, in wonder and appreciation and with a heart full of pride and a desire to share.
This is what was there to see ...
Like tribal markings in the sand of the day we'd just spent ourselves immersed in. Samson's heart speaking to himself, as he recorded his own memory.
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