Archive for the ‘ruffed grouse’ tag
Thoughts About Father’s Day
Another photo from yesterday, this time a ruffed grouse otherwise known as prairie chicken in this part of Canada. After taking the photo, I noticed a bee in the photo over the bird’s head. Obviously, the bee was quite close when the photo was taken.
Today’s golf was a social tournament. I don’t really care for this kind of golfing, but it is the price to pay to be part of a community, playing with the community. I much prefer playing a quiet game when there are few people out on the course when I can focus better. That said, I played well for my skill level and left satisfied with my efforts, both on the course and off. Dues have been paid.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day. Somehow, I don’t connect well with these kind of celebrations. I don’t care for Hallmark card kind of events such as Father’s Day as they have little meaning because they are commercialized. For me, the real Father’s Day with my children, is my birthday. And even that, is best when kept very low key.
Absurdity – Loving the Unloveable
Yesterday I took my camera to the golf course. I don’t usually do this as it is often a distraction to my game where focus is the most important aspect of the game. I was rewarded with new blossoms on the cactus plants that hug the ground, a ruffed grouse, and a large rabbit.
This is one of the photos of the cactus flowers. Hidden beneath the vibrant colour is the spiney cactus which is a hazard during most of the golf season.
When taking the photo, I remarked that these made me think of some very crusty and prickly people. Every once in a while their soul shows through, a brief flash of beauty, of softness, of colour. But, only for a very short time. Then it is back to their rough and gruff, outer persona with which they cloak themselves for protection. It’s hard to love, let alone like these people, but it is worth it in the end.
The capacity to love, in the face of the absurdity of our ends, permits us to live an enlarged life. Such a life will not be measured by its successes, but by the quality of its yearning. (Hollis, Celebrating a Life, 2001, p. 126)
