TOES IN, ROCKS GO SPLASH
The breakfast table still had the remnants of the morning on it when we arrived at the cabin. Plates pushed aside, a juice cup tipped at an angle that hadn't quite become a spill yet. The older cousins were already down at the lake shore. Their daughter was still at the table, unhurried, working through the last of her pancake with the full concentration of someone who had nowhere to be. Toddler time.
Ruwan and I helped clear the table while everyone figured out the plan for the day. By the time sunscreen was smeared on faces and snacks were packed into backseats, we had a destination: Fallen Leaf Lake. A short drive from Camp Richardson, close enough that it took longer to get everyone into the cars than it did to get there.
In the gravel parking lot, while Adam and Jessie got the carrier sorted out, their daughter produced a pair of toy binoculars. A miniature version of the ones her dad had around his neck. She showed me how they worked with the authority of someone who had been using them for years. Two pairs of eyes looking for birds, she seemed to say, are better than one.
The carrier went onto Adam's back and she climbed in, settled and shaded, with the best view of anyone on the trail. She also had the best access to his hat, which she took almost immediately. I had started to notice a pattern.
Ruwan — I'll admit I spent a portion of that hike quietly envious of the whole arrangement. Carried uphill, hat on, birds-eye view. She had figured something out that the rest of us hadn't.
It was a beautiful hike. The first stretch ran along a paved forest road closed to traffic, so even the uphill felt easy. Then the trail veered left into pine and cedar, dusty in places and muddy in others where small streams crossed the path. We balanced across makeshift bridges of fallen logs, paused where a larger stream ran down from the lake ahead, and stopped whenever someone thought they heard a bird or their daughter pointed at something none of the adults could immediately identify. The hike had its own pace and we were happy to follow it.
We reached the lake about an hour in. I have a rule about new places: I haven't officially been somewhere until my toes are in the water. Fallen Leaf Lake sparkled in the afternoon sun and I was not going to let cold water stand between me and making it official. Neither, as it turned out, was anyone else. Adam found a stretch of beach with large rocks and logs to sit on and we all started unlacing shoes without much discussion.
Their daughter was hesitant at first. She watched Jessie wade into the shallows, then watched her again, then decided that if her mom was doing it that was probably good enough reason. She walked in holding Jessie's hand, Jessie moving carefully to keep her steady on the loose rocks.
Hesitation lasted about thirty seconds.
What followed was the rock game. Adam would find one just the right size for her fist, hand it over, and wait. She'd inspect it with great seriousness. Then, when the moment felt right to her and only her, she'd toss it. The splash was the point. The aim improved as the game went on, which the adults around her appreciated more than she knew.
Jessie eventually scooped her out of the water to dry her toes and warm up in the sun. Sitting still lasted exactly as long as it took to get her shoes back on. Then she found a log to climb, stood on top of it with the satisfaction of someone who had summited something significant, and decided the way down was to swing off Jessie's hands rather than jump. Cautious, but with style.
Speaking of style.
Somewhere in the general movement of people finding snacks and adjusting layers, an unattended pair of sunglasses entered her orbit. They were on her face before anyone had fully registered what was happening. She wore them with complete conviction. We could not resist a few more frames before we actually said goodbye.
The goodbyes were the part neither Ruwan nor I had been looking forward to. We had a hike back to the trailhead and a long drive to the other end of the lake ahead of us. The group was taking the longer trail back. We were going the short way, and quickly.
We stole a few selfies with Adam and Jessie first. The kind of photo you take when you know it's going to be a while before you're all in the same place again. Then we hugged, turned around, and started walking back through the pines.
The lake was still sparkling when we hit the trailhead. By the time we reached the car my toes were dry and we were already thinking about what was waiting for us on the other side of Tahoe.
