Today is the anniversary of my father’s birthday, and if my memory is correct, he would be 80 today if he were still alive. Unfortunately, he died far too young—at 54—and enough time has passed so that my memories of him seem distant. Nevertheless, distant or not, he is still with me. Although I loved my mother very much, I was a “father’s daughter, ” with my affinities and inclinations more closely aligned with him rather than with my mom. From my father came my love of books and ideas and the life of the mind. Also the desire to grow things and the strong attachment to the natural world. Like him, I am drawn to photographing nature, and I even use the same brand of camera—a Canon.
As the Irish might put it, my father also had his little ways. Don’t all people? He could be touchy, authoritarian, and short tempered. His word was law in our house, and nobody dared go against him. When I was younger, I silently and resentfully chafed against his domineering personality. Now that I am older, and I am very much aware of my own little ways—perhaps not so unlike his—my attitude has softened. My affection for him remains strong, and I have come to appreciate all that he did for me.
Big ways. Little ways. The whole person. This post, this day, these pictures are dedicated to my father—Ronald James Meunier.