Out on a morning, walking with the kid, it's cold and mossy. She takes out a toy, a new one, robot plastic bird or bat, to fly through trees. I take out the kid and set her going, see what she will do. (The other grown folk climb the slopes with dogs.)
A troop of seven boars runs single-file across the hill. We all pull up and look, the dogs, adults, the kid, the plastic bat, and let our reason for the morning pass.