Traffic and Roosters

 

 Growing up one of our favorite childhood games was "traffic." A very simple game, it involved me and my siblings riding our bikes in circles around our driveway.  We had a gas station by the front steps, a train crossing, a pedestrian crossing, and a garage in, naturally, the garage.  We would ride in circles, stopping to pick up passengers, waiting for people to cross, and getting our tires repaired. Our most memorable traffic accident involved putting my youngest brother's tricycle into the wagon, with him on top, and pulling him around...until he fell off and broke his collarbone. We had traffic lights, police, and, when feeling like a long journey we would exit the driveway and ride up and down our dead end street.

I'm just home from a few days with my grandchildren and while there spent some time playing traffic with my 4 year old grandson. He invented much the same game on the sidewalk in front of his house.  With chalk he designated the gas station, drew a traffic light, and put in a rail crossing. He would ride his bike and I served as the gas station attendant. We even got his younger sister involved, riding in her Little Tykes Cozy Coupe. It was made for playing traffic, it even has a gas cap! I wonder if children around the world play this game?  Before cars did kids play cattle drive?  or herding sheep?

I was also reminded of our strange obsession with teaching young children animal sounds.  My 1.5 year old granddaughter has the cow down pat, and is working on horses and chickens. One would think we would focus on more important vocabulary. How often in your life are you called upon to make an animal sound, other than playing or reading with young kids? So many children's books focus on farm animals. I have a satisfactory knowledge of the appropriate sounds (although there are the cluck/bawk/cheep, woof/bow wow/ ruff/arf dilemmas) and can even venture into monkeys or elephants. But what do we do with fish? giraffes? penguins? turtles? We have painted ourselves into a corner.

I don't think my grandson has ever seen a rooster, but when we play pretend games he always signifies morning and time to wake up with the sound of a rooster, "cock a doodle do," not an alarm clock. Where does that come from? I know that animal sounds differ round the world, so we don't even have a common base for what animals sound like, let alone how they are named.  Do roosters really sound different in Germany?  Kikireki? Most children in the US do not live on, or even near, a working farm. Why do we focus on animal sounds?  What makes them relatable to children?  I'm sure someone has written a doctoral thesis on this topic and I am now off to search for it. 

Redbuds

 

 

I recently moved back to my hometown area. I feel comfortable here.

In my yard I have a beautiful redbud tree (not the one above, my poor photo of my redbud is at the bottom.)  They seem to be everywhere I look.  The blooms start in April, before there are many leaves on trees, so the colors really stand out.  I've always wondered why they are called "redbuds" when the flowers are more pink or purple in color. I know we had redbuds in central NY, but it seems there are even more here. At least I notice them more.

My sister Martha died in an April many years ago and I remember my dad telling me of driving home from the funeral, looking out the car window, and seeing the woods full of redbud trees in bloom. Ever since then, he said, seeing the redbud trees in April reminded him of Martha. When my mother passed away, he had a redbud tree planted by the history museum where they had both volunteered.

One of my favorite things about the trees is how the blossoms can come right out of the trunk, not only sprouting from the branches.  It's as if the plant can't contain its excitement about the coming spring weather. It's bursting at the seams.

For me, the redbuds carry all of these stories--my sister, my mother, my father, and, now, my new home and new beginnings. I'm starting to think I might need to plant another