what wonders await

In the forest the boys follow footprints, hunting for burrows and hollows and nests, hiding places.
All three of them seem satisfied among the trees, thriving in nature, and it makes me feel that way too, or at least that satisfied and thriving are possibilities.
They turn tree roots into hopscotch games, inspect feathers and toadstools and stones. They bathe in shallow creek beds, skipping rocks and experimenting with things that float.
I look around, pockets heavy with acorns and pinecones and shells, and am reminded of the enormous smallness of it all. And while the boys find treasures I try to find a way to forgive myself for not knowing the unknowable.