Ernie
didn't want gifts. He doesn't need things. But as his son, I wanted
to give him something. I wanted to give him something that is worthy
of this milestone, and worthy of this man. And it couldn't be green
bananas. What I decided on were words. And so I have written one of
my pieces for my dad, for this day. That is my gift to you, Ernie:
A collection of sporadic reflections on little journeys through life. About land and love, about mountains, mid-life and meaning, about relationship and rocks, about the science and poetry of parenthood. At its best it is a look below surface, a passionate engagement with beauty, and an on-going attempt to discover what is important.
Pages
It is my hope that putting this voice out into our world has value, not only for me, but for others, as well. I admit to sometimes entertaining dreams of it going viral, of infecting the world with my vision. But most of the time I am content to be motivated by Gandhi's assertion: whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.