Puddles and Pink Rubber Boots

Spring is finally coming to our part of Alberta, albeit very s-l-o-w-l-y.  Massive drifts of crystallizing granules of snow still line our roads and pathways but birds are singing happily as they dip in and out of puddles.
Other little birds are also enjoying the puddles. Our neighbour's granddaughter, Sophie, who is a little over two years old, stomped happily in the largest puddles she could find in our quickly drying cul-de-sac. Pink rubber boots, pink splash pants and her pink parka kept her warm and dry while her little feet scampered through the water and her happy laugh joined the trill of the birds enjoying their own puddles (of course, sans the rubber boots!).
My own daughter, now 22 and also sans pink boots, helped me chip blocks of icy snow from our driveway today. East facing, it takes its time in melting although the neighbours on the sunny south side of the cul-de-sac are ice-free. It made me think of her love for puddles and how her pink rubber boots splashed merrily through many years of watery springs, rainfalls and unseasonably warm winters. Pink turned to purple and then to none. The past few years she has moved on to splashing through oceans in her life as a marine biologist. Who knew that her love for puddles (and keeping worms 'warm' in her pockets!) would lead to that?
I miss those pink rubber boots and our happily splashing little girl....