meandering

My dad's side of the family consists of a lot of talkers, which is ironic given the austerity with which he communicates (although there is a common goof streak between brothers). Maybe he gave up trying with a house full of gabbers? While I was in NC last week, I saw two uncles that I haven't seen in about ten years and they spoke in equal volume, but very different content. One could talk of nothing but medical problems and ways in which the world is out to get him. The other (pictured), touched on a broad range of topics from pedophiles in the Catholic church to stacking firewood for his grouchy mother-in-law to the benefits of Obama (who knew). Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if my family hadn't left the rural part of central NC where I was born. Would I have found my way to the same interests? or would I spend my time griping about the price of pork boston butts at the Food Lion while I tamp down Donald Trump signs in my front yard?

Anyway, I realized while I was down there just how much time my brother and I used to spend outdoors. I thought my love for nature was somewhat recent (say the last 10 years or so), but the more I think about it, the more I can see that it's been there all along. Catching lightning bugs at dusk. Wandering down to the creek behind my grandmother's house. Sneaking off to the park when we were supposed to stay put until our mom got home. Fishing for hours on end at our aunt's lake house. Getting eaten alive by mosquitoes at our other aunt's house because we refused to come inside until the last possible minute. Playing catch in the back yard until it got so dark someone would get hit by the ball (usually me). There's no point to this list except to say that I cannot wait until the weather warms up so I can while away as much time as possible outside with comfortable digits. In the meantime, we leave for the other side of the equator in 8 days, where we will hopefully get more than our fill of the great outdoors. This incohesive post was brought to you by feeling distracted by the amount of planning still left despite the ridiculous amount I've already done! Now for the haiku:

i prefer the sound
of rustling leaves over the
chatter in my head

picture: my dad's second oldest brother who lives in the mountains of NC, February 2016, film, Leica M6