the earth has music for those who listen
Little feet almost instantly pivot about at the sound of his name in that tone, because when his Da is saying something with a voice like that, it usually means there's something to learn. Having twisted towards Remi, ankle deep in the muddy bank with his fluffy white feather clutched in his fingers, Mateo offers his father a smile that's all round cheeks and dimples. "It's muddy," he says, before gazing over his shoulder to see where the mud becomes water.
"Ohhhhhh. I should be..." Stomping away from the banks until the earth becomes solid beneath his (bare) feet again, Teo throws his feather into the air. "Here!" he announces. "Oh Da, look!" With his head tilted up towards the canopy of trees, the boy points as the vines overhead seem to slither and writhe, like they're alive.
"Ohhhhhh. I should be..." Stomping away from the banks until the earth becomes solid beneath his (bare) feet again, Teo throws his feather into the air. "Here!" he announces. "Oh Da, look!" With his head tilted up towards the canopy of trees, the boy points as the vines overhead seem to slither and writhe, like they're alive.
