Corynn gathers flowers whenever she gets outside. I have collected them at my kitchensink windowsill and enjoy every ounce of their beauty, while it is still here.
I think that a certain Panda bear has been internalizing that because he has begun doing the same thing. His are not so beautiful, but are just as (if not more so) sweet.
His little legs waddle him toward me faster than he knows how to deal with and his chubby arms with a non-exsistent wrist holds up to me a clump of dead grass. Or a handful of pebbles. Or a stick. And with a HUGE grin and a sweet sparkle in his eyes he says (with great pride in his voice...
It is just SO precious and it warms my heart like I never knew a dirty rock could.