“Māmā I touched the sky,” you trilled. Toes pointed towards the clouds, head tossed back, grin reaching for the heavens.
The swings squeaked with every arch and we watched as the bird wheeled above us, mimicking the cry of the steel. Within seconds, the moment snatched away on the wind and we’re off to the next attraction.
“It’s stopped wind-ing now,” you yelled at me as you scaled the rickety, rusted slide. Up, up, up, each step taking you further away from me. “Oh no, it is blowing my hair,” you called. “It’s wind-ing again.” Early morning car rides listening to audiobooks came to light as you recalled The Wild Wet Wellington Wind by “Joy Crowlrey!”
“Count in mow-dee Māmā,” you shouted. Tahi through to tekau, I heard whispers of you reciting the numbers along with me. “Rua, turtle, wha, rima…” Tekau becomes ‘go!’ and you pushed yourself off, gravity pulling you back down to me, safe in my arms once again.
“I did it Māmā,” you proudly announced, your growing independence both breaking and swelling my heart at once. And then you’re off again, hair flying behind you, cheeks rosy red from wind and excitement, off to test that confidence again.
The Wild Wet Wellington Wind, is by Joy Cowley. It is a poem that evokes the, funnily enough, wild Wellington wind, and was published in 1986 by the Department of Education.
‘wind-ing’ = windy. But as a three year old we’re still learning about which suffixes you add to words to change their meaning. Pronounced like wind (the wind is blowing) with ‘ing’ at the end, not like winding the bobbin.
‘mow-dee’ = Māori.
‘turtle’ = the Māori word for three, aka toru.
To count to ten in Māori = tahi, rua, toru, whā, rima, ono, whitu, waru, iwa, tekau.
via Daily Prompt: Radiate