I've been thinking about how RW loved nature. Looking back at some of my memories, I wonder if it was something deeper for him. If maybe nature was some kind of therapy for his intense life.
Most years on an afternoon during the fall he would take me driving around looking at leaves. I don't think he had any clue where he wanted to end up. He just kept following the pretty colors. Inevitably it would get too distracting and he'd pull the car over and we'd walk through the woods.
He is the only person I can remember teaching me about the different kind of birds. For my 12th birthday, he bought me a bird book to help me identify them. He often would walk outside the shop with me and we would play with the Killdeer.
I've watched him plant many a tomato and pepper plant.
In the deep part of summer, he could sit and listen to the Cicadas for hours.
Nature seemed to be Papaw's music. It seemed to do something for him. He acted like it was more than just enjoyment. He seemed to need it.
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I remember one time Paw Paw said, come with me I want to show you something. He drove me up a hill to see the most beautiful orange tree in the fall. I still look at that tree every year. I think of him when I see it at its peak.
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