Through My Daughter's Eyes

My husband, daughter, and I explored a new wilderness park over the weekend; a place where salmon swim upstream in the fall and a waterfall rushes over sheer cliffs only to disappear in a bed of rocks several yards down stream. Hiking through this forest with Ayla in the back pack carrier, I approached the woods differently.

Before my daughter was born, I looked at the woods through the eyes of a naturalist and writer, using all of my senses to experience the forest. Now when we are out hiking in the wilderness I try to see it through my daughter's eyes. It's an overwhelming mass of shades of green with high pitched bird calls spiraling down from the canopy above. A sudden wind rushing through branches catches her attention, but not the slow moving slug or snail that crosses our path. Does she see the fragile seedlings popping up on the forest floor?

Having a daughter has greatly improved my writing that's aimed at children. I try to see the words, the dialogue, the descriptions through my daughter's eyes. What details catch her attention and make her smile? Although she's still too young to understand the meaning of my words, her enthusiasm motivates me to write and write and write.