It’s a tradition in our family to go out for a walk after the mid-day meal on Thanksgiving and Christmas, sometimes all together, but more commonly by ourselves or in smaller groups. This might seem strange to those for whom constant family togetherness is mandatory on such occasions, but, well, some of the holiday traditions of other folks seem strange to us, too: lolling around watching other people play sports, for example, or lining up outside stores on Black Friday morning. To each his own.
If I’d been smart, though, I would’ve tagged along with my brother Steve and his wife Pam, since they spotted both a golden eagle and a barred owl, while all I saw was a pileated woodpecker at close range and a couple mixed flocks of winter songbirds.
And Elanor and her grandfather claim to have met a giant space monkey: “Bigger than Jupiter, bigger even than the house!” (Apparently Steve showed her Jupiter through a telescope the other night, and it made quite an impression.)
When everyone got back from their walks, we had pie — apple and pumpkin. See? In most ways, we are pretty traditional. Though we do draw the line at inviting the neighbors over, killing them and stealing their land.* We have enough land, really.
After pie and the ritual dismemberment of the table, we staggered into the living room where Steve regaled us with information about total solar eclipses of the recent past and near future, Pam read choice details from old genealogies, Elanor did interpretive dances for all 250 birdsongs in an audio guidebook, and I dozed off and got a crick in my neck.
*Yes, I stole that line from the Daily Show.
10 Replies to “Thanksgiving walk”
Where’s the photo of you dozing off? :) Sounds like you had a great Thanksgiving over in the Hollow.
(That’s from a couple years ago, but you get the idea.)
Dozing? With all those books to read at hand!
It was the encyclopedias and the OED. They exert a strongly soporific influence on anyone in the vicinity.
Loved those pictures, Dave. This is a wonderful tradition on this homecoming day. Thanks for this post.
Hope this is not too late: I have you and Luisa to thank for cranking on my rusty poetic engines. Happy Thanksgiving.
Thanks, Albert. I’m glad you’ve found so much to spark your ignition here and at the Porch!
I love that first photograph–without being a whit smarmy, it feels full of meaning.
Thanks. I should put it on a notecard or something.
Looks good enough to save for a book!