When my kids were younger, I used to love to take them to Monmouth Battlefield State Park and not because it's just down the road from the best gosh-darned apple cider donuts made in New Jersey, either.

Although, I do not miss those double-stroller days (okay, maybe just a little) I was a bit taken aback by bittersweet moments (okay, more like suffering a major heart squeeze) as they each fondly remembered the museum to be a little, you know, bigger.

I felt the same way (sort of) but, for many different reasons...four of them, to be exact.

Still, it was a good day and there's something about the openness of "the battlefield" that makes my kids want to go all, you know, feral. 

To run free.  Unrestrained and out of focus, yet knowing that they are well protected from the highways, that run within a stone's throw, on either side.

Oh, I'm not saying that every day is this pretty, or promise that the road ahead isn't filled with tons of goose poop, either.

There was this one time, however, on the battlefield, when we found the exact spot where the earth meets the sky.

And, well, I just love that, you know?

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