My husband stepped onto the law, where the soil is gravel and hard clay. Under his feet, he crushes path rush's wiry blades and plantain's soft but leather-strong leaves. My son bounces with my husband's footfall.
My eyesight is changing, tiring a little. Things are blurrier, books need to be closer, I've noticed. My son's eyes are the clearest feature as he gets further away. He turns forward, I've disappeared under the glass and his attention is drawn to his father's voice and what is before him.