View high resolution

“Daddy, is that where they make clouds?”

This trip is the prefect opportunity for me to show Clover a slice of the world. To mold her into the creature that I see fit. I feel like a sculptor. We look at and study nature. Study the land, study the sky. I want her to know what leaves belong to what trees, what scat is from what animal, what the flight of a woodpecker looks like, not to be afraid of spiders. I want her to know things that I don’t know, things I was never taught. I go out of my way to emphasize the importance of all things, of all life. It’s my self-assigned duty as a parent. I got an very sweet email from my mother in-law commending me on taking such a long trip with a five year old by myself. She said she didn’t think her husband would have been willing in his day. She didn’t mean it in a disparaging way, just factual. I was surprised to read that, but I get it. Five year olds are a lot of work, a lot… and I bet a lot of dudes out there probably still couldn’t deal. But I couldn’t help thinking about why one wouldn’t want to take a trip with their young child. This is what makes me tick, what makes her tick. She is a sponge. I want to surround her with nature. To plop her down in different environments and see, smell, and touch all that’s there. That’s what this Clover photo project is about to me. It’s a dance we do together out in the natural world. It’s me teaching her and myself what is really out there, and me reliving my youth in a way. But it’s not just teaching, it’s about experiencing it. It’s pure and feral. I feel that every “next” trip is the best opportunity to let her experience the world. I’m not even back from this one and I’m already planning the next.

“No baby, that’s not where they make clouds. That’s pretty much the opposite of clouds.”