Expedition Bigfoot Part the Second: Ode to Sasquatch
Last week, my daughter and I began preparations for our upcoming Bigfoot expedition by taking a long walk in Glen Helen Ecological Preserve. Along the way, we pondered what life must be like for Bigfoot.
By the time we emerged from the forest, we had conceived an entire Bigfoot existence, including: their early days dwelling in hidden caves, their adult years roaming the wilderness in search of food and appreciating nature’s beauty, and finally their quiet advanced years spent watching the babies in the caves.
It was an enjoyable little exercise in creativity. This week, we took it a step further. We’d already put ourselves in Bigfoot’s shoes. We’d gotten inside Bigfoot’s head; now we needed to get into his heart.
Our first attempt at this came in the form of letters to each other. I wrote from the point-of-view of an adult Bigfoot traveling through the wilderness, and my daughter wrote from the perspective of a child Bigfoot.
The result was less than satisfying, and the whole exercise felt forced – like she was doing a homework assignment. Although, I loved the middle of her letter: “The teens and college-ages are chatting about something called ‘jupiter.’ That is a type of plant, I think.” So cute. But by the end, she was clearly filling space: “The girls are either hanging by themselves (like me) or some others are talking to great gramma, great grampa, great great gramma, great great grampa, great great great gramma, and great great great grampa.”
Yeah, it was like that.
But that’s all cool. Sometimes parenting is like writing: major rewrites are needed. So, a few days later, we tried our hand at poetry. My daughter started with a charming limerick:
Great Bigfoot Limerick
Brown and hairy,
Big belly to carry.
Lives in a cave,
Food to crave,
Very scary.
I told her it was wonderful, but to try to put herself more in Bigfoot’s head. What was he thinking? Better yet, what was he feeling? She considered for awhile, then asked me how to spell “cinquain.” She soon came up with this:
Great Bigfoot Cinquain
Bigfoot.
Hungry, sleeping,
Resting, nesting, eating.
He is quite mysterious.
Sasquatch.
Now, we were getting somewhere. We sat at our little kitchen table, facing each other with our laptops back to back, and typed out Bigfoot poetry. I sent her a little haiku:
trees stand thick as fur
my belly pouch swells like moon
these feet, not so big.
She responded with this poem, which I think is the best of the litter.
Bigfoot Untitled
I am lazy,
I know it sounds crazy.
I bird watch more than you think.
Cave plumbing is what I drink.
I miss my kids when I hunt.
I am no runt!
I feel strong.
But sometimes I long,
to sleep instead of being king kong.
This is everything a Bigfoot poem ought to be. It’s funny, thought provoking, and a little sad. And I love the pop culture reference at the end.
With these poems, we are certainly a few steps closer to finding Bigfoot.
