Sunday, June 15, 2014

Happy Father's Day!

Yesterday was a fun day. In the morning we (Better Half, Daughter Person, Fiance of Daughter Person and I) met up with Son Person and his aide to see How to Tame Your Dragon 2. Everyone enjoyed it, some more than others. I think it had something to do with how close you are to the target audience's age. I don't think it spoils the plot if I note that driving themes in Dragon 2 were family, fathers, and the role of an alpha male. After the movie, four of us, minus Son Person and aide, headed for Wild River State Park to catch a presentation on raptors by Chris Colb of the the Wisconsin DNR.

Great Horned Owl and friend
Great Horned Owl (on right) and friend Chris             © harrington

During the presentation, we learned that female raptors are larger than the males. All of which (movie and presentation) was interesting fodder just before Father's Day. The jobs of fathers and mothers seem to get more complicated and challenging as we "progress" into the 21st century, more so for humans than for raptors, but changes like global warming and pollution affect us all. My wish for all of us on this Father's day is that we be successful at making a sustainable living in our communities while we have a sustainable life with our families.

The visit to Wild River was followed by a stop at Coffee Talk in Taylors Falls on our way home. It was a nice family day in between my birthday (don't ask!) and Father's Day. James Wright reminds us to enjoy our fathers, and our children, while we can. We did that yesterday and get to do it again today and tomorrow. We wish you the same.

female red-tailed hawk with friend Chris      © harrington

Youth

By James Wright 

Strange bird,
His song remains secret.
He worked too hard to read books.
He never heard how Sherwood Anderson
Got out of it, and fled to Chicago, furious to free himself   
From his hatred of factories.
My father toiled fifty years
At Hazel-Atlas Glass,
Caught among girders that smash the kneecaps
Of dumb honyaks.
Did he shudder with hatred in the cold shadow of grease?   
Maybe. But my brother and I do know
He came home as quiet as the evening.

He will be getting dark, soon,   
And loom through new snow.
I know his ghost will drift home
To the Ohio River, and sit down, alone,
Whittling a root.
He will say nothing.
The waters flow past, older, younger   
Than he is, or I am.


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