He closes his eyes tightly as I push him in the fisher price swing. His face relaxes and his blond curls blow gently in the wind as he swings back and forth. “Faster, Mommy,” he says and I gladly comply. He breaks out in a fit of giggles as the swing cuts through the cool April air in this wonderful evening.

I don’t take pictures of him because I don’t want to get distracted from the wonder of it all. I don’t want to lose sight of his enraptured face, of the curls flying back and forth, of his little baby face which I know will soon mature as he enters boyhood.

He is still my baby although he is growing so fast, faster than he is swinging through the air now. He and I have conversations about the deer and the vehicles on the highway, as well as the train he got scared by the Wonder Woman performance in the mall a few months back.

So I don’t want to lose sight of this moment, or his face, of the joy that we share during our time outside. And the camera would never be able to capture the breeze that we feel, of the hint of changing times.