Every book and article on youth development stresses the need for adult role models. For me, it was always my parents. It wasn’t until I left home that I realized not everyone is so lucky.
While I cannot credit him for my passion for writing, or knitting, or sailing (he’s a very good doggy paddler though), my father is the man who introduced me to the great outdoors. By taking me camping, hiking, and canoeing, he encouraged me to get dirty. My dad taught me to pitch a tent, read a map, hang a hammock, play a harmonica, start a fire, find water, and shoot a snot rocket. But he also flipped our canoe (yes, I still say it was your fault), lead me miles in the wrong direction (I told you!), and conned me into snow camping after two years of living in the south (I have no excuse for agreeing to go).
Happy Birthday, Dad.
Thank you for sharing your love of nature with me. It’s a gift I can only repay by passing it on to the next generation.
Whenever they show up.
Which is no time soon. Sorry.
Love, Veronica Harmonica (the least embarrassing nickname you’ve given me)