On September first, the day before she turned 10 months old, Taylor took her first steps. Over the ensuing weeks, in between cruising and crawling, she continued to practice walking and would occasionally surprise us with 10 or 15 steps at a time. It wasn't until our trip to California in mid October that she got serious: that's when walking really started to happen.
We flew into San Francisco and spent four days with Elisabeth, James and Frank the dog, then drove down Highway 1 along the Pacific to Los Angeles to meet up with John. I think it was likely interest in Frank that spurred on Taylor's locomotion. Frank, and the boardwalk among the redwood trees in Muir Woods; the sand on Dillon Beach along the Point Reyes National Seashore, Santa Cruz and Carmel-by-the-Sea; the fraternal twins at Uncle John's party and John's godson Spencer, who did a fine job of looking after Taylor throughout the afternoon. It was a full week, and one worth walking through.
Taylor has now seen the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Rocky Mountains—all before her first birthday. A pretty good way to start life, I think.
