The garden as a playground

There is a moment I particularly enjoy with Wolfie at weekends and when I am back from work (even though then it only lasts a few minutes before or after dinnertime): when we go playing in the garden together. I say we play, but in the end I mostly stand up and let him be in his own little world. I do interact with him, don't get me wrong: I throw the ball if he wants to throw a ball, I speak to him, but he prefers to keep his toys to himself and do his own thing. I wish I knew what is in his mind when he plays. The garden, either the family one or one of our friends', is maybe the most common playground and the center of many of my childhood moments. In our make belief games it could be a dense forest, a jungle, the sinister ruins of an old castle, the underground lair of a badguy, etc. Yesterday, when Wolfie was going around in his batmobile or walking in the lawn which I must mow soon, I kept thinking about these moments from my old childhood and wonder what stories Wolfie will come up with.