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 into a fit of giggles as the swing cuts through the cool April air in this wonderful evening.

I don’t take pictures of him so as not to get distracted from the wonder of the moment. 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, the vehicles on the highway, as well as the time he got scared by Wonder Woman during her performance on roller skates in the mall a few months ago.

So I don’t want to look at my screen to get a perfect shot. I would rather internalize the joy on his face and the serenity in my heart as we share this time outside. And even if I tried, the camera would never be able to capture the breeze that we feel, of the hint of changing times.