Lee Pitts: Mother Nature, Father Time
Women are nature, men are time. Women are beautiful like a Maui sunset or a forest of pine wearing a fresh blanket of snow, while men are as timeless as Shakespeare, Michelangelo and Da Vinci. Women are full of wonder and just like the weather, they can be full of surprises. Like the tides and the moon, they live according to the rhythms of nature. Women are as complex as chlorophyll, DNA and a spaceship all rolled into one and if you can figure one out you’re a genius. Men are more predictable, like a moth drawn to a flame, and are governed by the time clock, calendar and wrist watch, or should I say I phone?
Women are thunder and lightning and can be as cold as an Arctic winter and smokin’ hot, hot hot. Like most females in the animal kingdom the female is the most deadly and like a hurricane or tornado, heaven knows they can cause incalculable destruction. Just ask any rejected man who is madly in love with someone he can’t have. These Queen bees can be as hard to predict as next year’s climate and they command our respect. Other than credit card companies and decadent chocolate cake, they have few natural enemies.
Women have compassion for all living things and have been known to herd spiders or bugs outside instead of just smashing them like a man would do. But don’t mistake this tenderness for weakness for they will turn into a fierce combatant when their nest is threatened. There are few things in nature as dangerous as a beautiful woman with a come-hither look in a bar who is not your wife. The Queen Bee’s sting can be deadly and they work their own cures.
I’ve seen creative women who could make a nativity scene out of a few palm fronds, a spare dog and a Barbie® doll. Men take one look and want to know how much it cost and how long it took to build. A woman can see the beauty and wonder in chickens and their multi-colored eggs, while the only thing a man wants to know is when will his omelet be ready.
Looking at a stunning field full of cotton, corn or cows a woman sees a photo for her Facebook page or Snapchat, or whatever those things are called that men think are such time-wasters. All the man wants to know is what will it yield to the acre. A woman can see the beauty in a field full of mustard while all a man sees is a crop of inferior hay.
A woman thinks it would be great to organize a big birthday bash for her three year old and she hires a donkey for the little kiddies to ride, while her husband wonders how long he’ll have to work to rent the stubborn beast and how long it will take to clean the mess up. The woman of the house tends her garden of mums, daisies and yellow roses and sees raindrops on rose petals as tears from God. A man sees only weeds, feels only thorns and stays awake half the night worrying that the rain will ruin his crop, or his golf game.
Men are impatient while waiting on their date, or their spouse, to get properly painted. Even their games, like football and basketball, are ruled by a clock. He’s called Father Time for a reason, you know?
I wonder if man is so driven by time because he knows he has less of it to squander than women do? Our life expectancy is far less, in more ways than one. Time, or lack thereof, is the reason men don’t watch chick flicks or read Danielle Steele. We haven’t got that much time to kill, even when we do. It’s why men collect old cars, gas pumps and signs… we’re trying to live twice. I know it’s why men reminisce with old friends and buy life insurance for the wife. And after loyally working for forty years what are we given? A wrist watch, of all things. We hurry up only to wait with no time on our hands. One lifetime’s too short to get it all done.
Mother Nature’s a female, Father Time is a man.
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