Rowan Tree and Red Thread

Rowan is sitting with us at lunch in a cafe in her favourite park.

'Can I have some of your apple pie, mama?'

'Of course, love'

Rowan, through the sounds of munching, says 'Another happy ending!'

Rowan, aged three, on Friends and Phoebe's triplets.

Sam: That lady has three babies in her tummy.
Rowan: That's a lot.

You said it kid.

At my in-laws house I sit on the old bench at the side of the house enjoying the half-forgotten sunshine and watching Rowan wander about the garden. The gentle tapping of old bamboo wind chimes draws my attention briefly before Rowan calls me to marvel at the pie she's made from sand, leaves and flowers.

The chimes are suddenly loud, caught in a gust. "Only wind" says Rowan, wisely.