We are on holiday in Arizona and we've been spending our entire afternoons outdoors, in Téa's grandmother's beautiful oasis garden in the desert. We lie back and observe the racing clouds, the many birds twittering in the treetops, the delicate lacey pine needles framing the sky. When she gets restless, we walk around and feel the flowers, the ferns, the large dangling fruits, and smell the leaves on the lemon tree. We rattle the windchimes. And I tell her incessantly about it all.
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