A clearing. A walk with my father

A fathers love, unlike a mothers, has its own aspects. I would compare it to the wind on a summer day, when the currents ruffle your hair, push you in the back, but overall its still warm and comfortable. A mother, on the other hand, imparts the soft energy of love, her tenderness, and carries within it a sense of nurture. For me, a father leads to experience. He leads in the same way a mother does with love, but with a different kind of love, one with a core, a vector. Like a stalk of grain in a field, bent by all the winds but continuing to grow upward and reach for the sun. A father leads, warning of mistakes and simultaneously resolving them. He himself has already walked this path, and now he walks it again, but with a growing part of himself.