Dad Points Things Out

Detail of Ceramic Incinerator with scgraffito carving of two silhouettes

 

It’s a moment from one’s childhood that becomes a primal imprint. We were suddenly out in the warm LA backyard twilight. Dad had us all looking straight upward, scanning, scanning. He grabbed my shoulder and pointed when he saw it and I think I saw it too. It was not a bird. Not a plane. Not a shooting star. I’d seen all of those. This was different: a glinting dot moving in a speedy soundless arc directly overhead!

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