Our son and family arrived Wednesday. The are moving back to New York from South Carolina. The Tryon household is in self-quarantine for two weeks. So far it is a relatively happy zoo and apparently healthy.
I spent Monday afternoon hiking around Quaker Pond at Mendon Ponds Park just south of Rochester. It is a beautiful and much loved park with nooks and crannies and memorials all over.
Met up a friend a couple weeks ago for a photo walk in Mendon Ponds Park, another favorite place. It was a beautiful day with the sunlight filtering through the leaves.
There is a lovely little extension to Durand Eastman park extending out along the road through the park to the main street on the east.
It has the most expressive trees.
Sunday evening we managed to get a bunch of us together for an outdoor communion service on the little rise behind the church.
Once upon a time I posted on my https://pearwood.deviantArt.com account a note about how to leave a good comment.
This just got a whole lot more personal as our 35 year old son announced on Father’s Day that he was now she.
I have come to that stage in my life where Father’s Day means visiting my parents’ gravesite.
Simon & Garfunkel’s words have been echoing through my head. I don’t feel old, but I will readily agree that it feels strange to be seventy.
Back when I first heard the song in the 1960s I thought seventy was old. I’m not so sure of that now.
I am a racist. Racism is deeply embedded in the white psyche. I have been a privileged white male for nearly seventy years. But I know better.