No better companion

No Better Companion:

Ross at The Ministry of Minor Perfidy wanted to share part of the eulogy for his father.

That light scattered and glowed, and I think I have not seen more perfect mornings than those. Dad would quietly slide the canoe into the water, slip in, and paddle into it all, with only the sound of water trickling from wood as he faded into mist. I often saw him come back, but I rarely saw him leave.

There’s an early time for experiences, a less crowded time, and I think Dad had a yearning for paths less occupied. If we look around and see multitudes in comfort, that urge to look elsewhere has truth. As a kid I was too tired from being too energetic to wake up when peace and beauty emerged.

We’ve got a capable family, with lots of doers and shakers, engineers and boat-makers. In some ways I’m like that too, so as a young man and even sometimes as an adult I’d see Dad looking out over the water, or from a balcony, or just at a fire…and I’d wonder what he saw. I’m not an artist so I doubt I’ll ever see it his way, or remember it the same way…but watching Dad watching embers arcing up from the heat of a fire lit sparks in me that persist to this day, that have given me warmth and comfort, to recognize and accept, to appreciate the natural beauty around us all. That’s something we never see unless we stop and look.

When we stop and look we are sometimes enchanted, or even entranced and held there, in a timeless state of contemplation. I know I could not have become the person I am without learning that from him, without being curious about his state of mind in those times, and finding that same place within myself.

I did not know the man, and would not wish to intrude on the grief of his son. I just want to remark on how I was struck by those lines, because of their similarity to an American hero named Francis Parkman. Parkman was described in Theodore Roosevelt and Henry Cabot Lodge's work on the subject of great American heroes. Most of their heroes, they noted, were famous for "deeds of war and feats of arms," but Parkman was mentioned for other reasons.

He too was a capable man, trained in chemistry at a time when education was far less usual. He also had an eye for the things of the forest, and the less traveled places, and an eye that saw deeply into things. When at last he grew too ill to carry on his expeditions, grew roses so he could explore horticulture.

Parkman wrote one of my favorite lines, one that perhaps this later gentleman would have enjoyed. "For the student there is, in its season, no better place than the saddle, and no better companion than the rifle or the oar."

That is a worthy and truthful lesson.