02.27.2012

Birds

One of the greatest memories of my Dad: I was little - maybe five or six- and he and I were winding through a forest road after dark, heading home from a weeklong camping trip. Dad suddenly throws his arm to my chest holding me to the seat and slams down on the breaks. “Terris. Terris! Did you see that Owl?”

We stop and he pulls a 35mm camera from behind the truck seat. “Wait here,” he says and I watch him stalk the bird through the back window, hunched over and tiptoeing down the dark road and then out of sight.

I remember how fascinating it was to watch a grown man be so captivated but I was also terrified to be alone in that dark place and scared that my Dad would be gotten by... who know's what? You're imagination runs wild when you're that young.

I wonder if my Dad watched me the same way a thousand times throughout the years; mesmerized by some unknown beautiful thing, chasing it without much sense and disappearing into the unknown. I'd bet that you're imagination runs wild when you're a dad too.

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