Yesterday’s glorious sunshine in the morning gave way to clouds in the afternoon that dissipated just before sunset, and it was a spectacular one. I do love a good sunset, and so long for someone to share my sunsets with. Heck, for the right person, I might even be persuaded that sunrises are nice, too.
Despite the gray, or maybe because of it, I got out for a good walk and stopped, not in one of my familiar spots, but a different one for a bit of a think. There’s nothing like a good long think outdoors, I think. The park I so often go to, and that spot in particular, made me think if my dad. Dad would have turned 103 last Sunday, and he’s been on my mind a lot these last few days. The outdoors usually reminds me of him in one way or another anyway–he loved being out in nature. A hunter, trapper, and fisherman in his youth out of necessity, he held onto his love of nature his entire life and did his best to pass his love of the outdoors onto my brothers and me. None of us developed a lifelong taste for hunting and fishing, but to some degree or other, we all love the pockets of wild we can find around here. It took me a good long while to love it, but I’m nowhere so much at peace and so centered as when I’m near woods and water. I think, more than wanting us to be hunters and fishers, Dad wanted us to find that kind of calm. He never said as much as far as I recall, but surely he found that when he was out on his own, walking through miles of woods, or floating on some clear blue lake somewhere.
In honor and memory of him, I’m posting his favorite poem. Happy birthday, Dad.
The Last Leaf