garrison beau scott

Today we took the offspring out for a walk along the Charles River. There’s a great path that winds its way behind Newton and Watertown, perfect for a lazy afternoon stroll. My daughter, Emmy, saw the Polaroid camera in the car, and asked if she could take some pictures.

She might as well have asked me if it was okay to breathe.

In the past, when we’ve gone out like that, I would always gently remind her that she had a camera along for the trip and ask if there was anything she wanted to take pictures of. But then I remembered my unspoken promise to my children to never push them in any direction. So today I said nothing, and was pleasantly surprised when of her own accord, she began asking if she could use it.

Not just hold it, or have it, but actually use it. So when she spotted something, she asked for it, and then magic. Here’s her favorite, which just so happens to be mine as well.

That smudge in the lower left of the white border is peanut butter. Kids… God love ‘em.

…I became a father. Emmy came into this world on her own terms, three weeks early and full of fire, but what to expect from a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Aries? Especially with a Sag for a father and a Taurus for a mother. We were immediately the underdogs. It’s just so damn hard to believe it’s been four years. I’ve got the gigabytes and slide pages to prove it, but still, I’m left wondering how we’ve gone from having to tube feed her every two hours to fatten her up to the point when if I say, “For those about to rock…” she answers, “…we salute you!”

(Complete with fist in the air, and attitude the size of Texas.)

The joy in bearing witness to her life is indescribable. It’s not always easy but it is always, without fail, amazing. And full of love. This is Emmy and my Grandmother a few weeks into this trip we call life.

Spring is here in Boston and Emmy is restless to get outside and run, run, run. And so she does. Little does she know that having her run all over the park is a devious plot hatched by her mother and I to help her crash come nap time. Thank the heavens for spring days, weekends, and acres of grass.

We took the cameras with us on our trek and every once in awhile she spotted something and asked for hers. Here is a grouping of the faves.

My paternal Grandfather was a pretty serious hobbyist photographer. My dad was a stringer for the Associated Press. Then there’s me, and now my daughter, Emm. At the worldly age of 2 and change, she began to show an interest in photography, or rather cameras. We let her play with old disposable cameras until she started asking to see the pictures.

So, for this past Christmas, we bought her a digital point and shoot and whenever she wants to take pictures, I turn it on for her, and let her go to it.

Here’s one of her very first efforts.