Some of my favorite childhood memories come not from rough-and-tumble boys-will-be-boys antics (though I certainly wasn't deprived in that area) but from the regular ritual of "Sleeping Under the Stars".
Throughout the summer, on any clear Friday night (of which there are plenty in semi-arid Utah) my dad would choose one of us (through a regular rotation) to spend the night with him in the back yard. After dark we would lay out a tarp on the lawn and unroll our sleeping bags, then simply lie there for hours, talking about anything and everything, until sleep finally overcame us.
Over the course of a summer I learned to recognize the major constellations and the planets that are visible to the naked eye. I must have seen dozens of shooting stars and orbiting satellites (and learned to tell the difference between them).
The most magical time was the first hour or so of dusk, when the darkening sky still held enough light to provide contrast to the darker silhouettes of bats flying overhead. We learned that a well-timed throw of a miniature marshmallow would cause them to swoop and dive for what they assumed to be a tasty treat.
We always awoke early enough to see the sunrise, and once or twice we were unpleasantly awakened even earlier, when my dad forgot to turn off the automatic sprinkler system.
I'm a father myself, now, and I cherish the opportunity to get to know my own boys both by spending time with them, whether it be in actively creating or working toward a shared goal, or in simply spending some quiet time watching the majesty of nature and learning about the world and about ourselves.
Awesome contest, btw.
Throughout the summer, on any clear Friday night (of which there are plenty in semi-arid Utah) my dad would choose one of us (through a regular rotation) to spend the night with him in the back yard. After dark we would lay out a tarp on the lawn and unroll our sleeping bags, then simply lie there for hours, talking about anything and everything, until sleep finally overcame us.
Over the course of a summer I learned to recognize the major constellations and the planets that are visible to the naked eye. I must have seen dozens of shooting stars and orbiting satellites (and learned to tell the difference between them).
The most magical time was the first hour or so of dusk, when the darkening sky still held enough light to provide contrast to the darker silhouettes of bats flying overhead. We learned that a well-timed throw of a miniature marshmallow would cause them to swoop and dive for what they assumed to be a tasty treat.
We always awoke early enough to see the sunrise, and once or twice we were unpleasantly awakened even earlier, when my dad forgot to turn off the automatic sprinkler system.
I'm a father myself, now, and I cherish the opportunity to get to know my own boys both by spending time with them, whether it be in actively creating or working toward a shared goal, or in simply spending some quiet time watching the majesty of nature and learning about the world and about ourselves.