One of my favorite books is A River Runs through It by Norman MacLean. It is a gem.
I Google and this comes up. You can see what I mean.
I am reminded because John McPhee in the New Yorker this week writes about fishing and the experiences he shared with his father. When his father is lying in a hospital bed after a stroke, and the doctor is insistent his father is essentially gone, McPhee sits by his bed and tells him about a fish he caught with his father's bamboo rod. His father's face is damp. Our face is damp. This is how we share.
I have been feeling like it's Valentine's Day each day this year. I love to celebrate the heart. Ted Kooser is one of my favorite poets.
Happy Super Bowl Sunday, whatever that means to you. Oddly, I realize I know more about it from the food pages than anywhere else. How many super-large bowls do we fill with snacks and treats today? Enjoy!
This Paper Boat
by Ted Kooser
Carefully placed upon the future,
it tips from the breeze and skims away,
frail thing of words, this valentine,
so far to sail. And if you find it
caught in the reeds, its message blurred,
the thought that you are holding it
a moment is enough for me.
"This Paper Boat" by Ted Kooser, from Valentines. © University of Nebraska Press, 2008