Here's some pictures from Sunday's latest expedition to Holly Park. He's added the see-saw to his repertoire. The baby swing still holds a special place in his heart, though.
I have seen where the wolf has slept by the silver stream. I can tell by the mark he left you were in his dream. Ah, child of countless trees. Ah, child of boundless seas. What you are, what you're meant to be Speaks his name, though you were born to me, Born to me, Cassidy...
Lost now on the country miles in his Cadillac. I can tell by the way you smile he's rolling back. Come wash the nighttime clean, Come grow this scorched ground green, Blow the horn, tap the tambourine Close the gap of the dark years in between You and me, Cassidy...
Quick beats in an icy heart. catch-colt draws a coffin cart. There he goes now, here she starts: Hear her cry. Flight of the seabirds, scattered like lost words Wheel to the storm and fly.
Faring thee well now. Let your life proceed by its own design. Nothing to tell now. Let the words be yours, I'm done with mine.
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