One of the earliest specific memories I have of my father was when we planted sweet corn together one spring. As I recall, we were planting a little patch by hand at the edge of a large field. It was a sunny, dry spring day and as we planted I could hear the plaintive cry of a bird. When I asked my father what it was, he explained that it was a "rain crow" and that it was crying for rain. I later learned that the bird crying for rain was actually a Mourning Dove. You can hear the call of the rain crow on this page.
That day in the corn field may have been the seed that started my life-long passion for planting things and watching them grow.
I had to be four years old or less when we planted that corn, because we moved from the farm when I was five. To this day, whenever I hear the call of the rain crow, I think of planting sweet corn with my dad all those years ago.
Happy Father's Day, Dad! Thanks for the memories!
4 comments:
What a nice memory of time spent with your Dad. It really is the little things that mean the most. The TIME fathers spend with their children sharing everyday life is what engenders good communication and builds relationship.
You really inspire me to do more planting with my kids, same applies to the moms, right? LOL
My kids are really not into the gardening at all since I always have to drag them into my garden to see my new blooms, but maybe I will choose something easy for them to grow from the seeds, and I hope seeing the plants grow might spike their interests!
Very nice, Jim! My father taught me to appreciate nature, no matter what, which is a bit amazing in itself as he was an Army Colonel, hard in nature only due to his career, but soft in heart. I'm glad I know his heart. I'm sorry...your post makes me think of my own father who is far away and doesn't travel well. I'm happy that you have these memories of your father!
My father was very strict, and he was most relaxed when he was in the garden. Thus, I loved gardening with him! I believe that it was also this time that I developed my love for gardening.
Your blog sure reminded me of great memories. My father died when I was nine, though. Still, gardening with him was a very happy memory.
Salamat (Thank you)!
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