Smelling Flowers in Our Backyard

Carl Schurz Park is our backyard. We go there every day. To take walks along the John Finley Walk promenade which has the perfect stonework for stroller-nap-inducing bumpiness. To swing on the swings back and forth, so high, up and down. To have our morning Starbucks coffee/yogurt and greet the rising sun. To set up shop on our blanket for lunchtime picnics. To chase pigeons. To watch dogs play in the small dog park. To teach Savannah the important terminology of our neighborhood: river, doggie, pigeon, flowers, trees, leaves, gray skies, blue skies, neighbors, nannies, babies, big kids...

There are always heaps of people in the park and at the playground. It really is the hub of the neighborhood and somewhat akin to what I imagine a British square or promenade would have been like in the 1800s. But we've found one hidden-away spot that is almost always secluded (you need to do a bit of off-roading with the stroller to get there) with a sizeable grassy area, a few trees and a flower garden that seems to change every month. I like to take Savannah here to explore the grass and see the changing seasons. I call it our backyard and the cherry tree, "our tree".

We enjoyed the last afternoon of summer there yesterday. Savvy celebrated by smelling a flower. Apparently, getting your nose tickled by teeny tiny purple petals is the most hilarious thing ever: