This morning Maya and a friend went to our neighborhood creek.
They came home briefly and came inside to tell me all about the two salamanders they brought to the little pond in our yard.
After they left again to go back to the creek, I dug out some field guides, the ones with salamanders and frogs and turtles and lizards and snakes, and left them on the front steps.
They came home later with lots of stories to tell about everything they saw and did at the creek. The stories kept growing bigger and wilder, and I couldn't quite tell -- and didn't need to know --where the line was between the objectively real and the imaginary.