(Departing from the usual BNT format for a newsflash.)
During our trip to Hawaii, the Good News Girl developed a new hobby overnight. It's like she's following in my footsteps, but more violently. It's difficult to get a decent picture of her at full steam.
The target is, of course, the nearest bird. She loves watching them take off in well-placed terror of her. One unfortunate lame avian did discover what happens when it can't take off--apparently she wants to try out her soccer skills on them--but I was able to swiftly teach her that we don't chase or kick birdies with owies.
But there are no pictures of the events that followed: her traipsing (sprinting) across this giant field at Kokee State Park; her father and I getting lost in the beauty of the moment with the cool evening breezes and the redwoods behind her, discussing something that is forever lost to me; her making a beeline for the chicken family and me not quite believing that after all my instructions she would still chase them (did I forget that she is 2?); both the terrified bird and the terrified Eva standing their respective grounds, squawking and screaming and flapping arms and wings at each other but thankfully making no contact; me discovering that I can, in fact, still run, all 15-extra-pounds-and-one-extra-person of me. It was most dramatic, although like a good woman I had to tell the Pater Familias afterward that it had, in fact, been most dramatic. He wasn't quite sure that it had been. (He has no healthy fear of the creatures, I guess.)
The offended fowl:
It's not all blood, sweat, and tears, though. She's pretty obsessed with the whole concept of binoculars--she has 2 toy pairs herself--and was really excited when I pulled out the big guns (low-end Bushnells from Target) at our accidental discovery of Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge:
Hanging with some nene at our hotel on Kauai:
Better watch out, birds. She's coming for ya! As soon as she figures out how to turn these things around the right way.