Fishing and Fathers

As anyone who has spent five minutes with me knows, I love nature. In fact, almost every favorite memory involves something out in the natural world. Both my parents influenced that, being outdoorsy types themselves. Some of my earliest memories are with them, gardening, hiking, or camping.

I remember one time when I was out fishing with my dad on my grandparents’ lake. It was the crack of dawn and mist rolled out in front of us as we headed out to a secluded corner to fish. Swans drifted by and dragonflies hunted along the surface. I can still smell the lakey smell that I will forever associate with Schoolhouse Lake. Dad wasn’t much of a talker, so we would just fish. I spent a lot of time just watching what was happening around us as the lake woke up - insects, birds, and eventually people arriving to greet the day.

I’ve had a lot of times like that with my dad. Climbing Cadillac Mountain in Maine, chopping firewood on a starlit night in Indiana, walking on the beach in South Carolina at the end of the day. I am grateful he instilled a love of nature in me and also a love of quiet. Most of my happiest memories come from those two things – and I’m grateful for all those special moments I’ve had with my very generous and kind father.

Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there and of course to my own dad!

Me and my dad.