Saturday, December 05, 2015
A Sad Time
So what does a squirrel have to do with sad feelings? Nothing. Except I can get lost in my own world while processing my photos and, regardless of any other circumstance, it makes me happy because I can equate the image to a joyful moment.
My Dad passed away on Dec.2nd at 7:10 am. He was 91 years old.
He loved photography. There were many different wild animals that lived around him, especially deer. He would sit on his patio and take picture after picture, year after year of them. He could tell from one year to the next by their markings if he had gotten a photo of one he had seen before.
I can remember as a child, when he got his first really good camera. Back then, light meters weren't built into them so he had to get one of those, too. I can remember posing for shot after shot while he learned how to use it. I must have gotten my love of photography from him.
I also remember as a child, raising baby squirrels by hand because their mother had gotten killed. We would feed them with doll bottles around the clock until they got old enough to feed themselves. More often than not, he would have one riding around in his shirt pocket. They would meet him at the door when he got home and hitch a ride. While they had the run of the house when someone was home, they also had cages. When they were able to fend for themselves, we would take the cage out to the garage, open it and let them run free.
The image of this squirrel was taken at a campground on Lake Livingston, Texas. He was so tame, that when we returned to our camp site after sightseeing, he would run up to the car and wait for us to open the door and get out so that he could greet us.
I must have gotten my love of nature and wildlife from him.
I also remember as a child, going camping in the mountains of Colorado. We went every year from the time I was 6 years old, and we camped out in a tent. Even after I was married, my husband and kids would go. My youngest daughter was 3 months old the first time she went. She slept snug and warm in a sleeping bag right next to me. We would go in August when it was really hot here. Outside in the mountains at night, it would get really cold, which I loved, and the days were cool and pleasant. We tried taking relatives along with us, but it proved difficult to tell someone from Texas to take a coat and enough warm clothes with them when it was 100 degrees outside. We usually lost them after the 2nd or 3rd night. I must have gotten my love of camping from him.
There are a lot of things, good and bad, that I got from him. He will be missed.