On Thanksgiving day quite a few years ago, my wife's extended family was all coming for dinner. I took off pretty early that morning to drive up in our north hills to "cake" a few bunches of cows and to break ice on the water tanks. The day was crystal clear, and as I topped the hills, mirages were visible in every direction. It was quite awe-inspiring and impressive.
I drove back by the house to reload more cake, and mentioned the phenomenon to some of the guests that were starting to arrive. My number one son was about five at the time. Unbeknownst to me, he decided to look for the mirages. The next thing we knew, he had climbed an old forty-foot windcharger tower(an early form of electricity), that was still standing near an old house. There was no platform at the top of this tower; only the top ends of the three legs which were about six inches apart. He was as high as he could get, and his little dinkle butt was "sitting" on two of the ends of the legs while he held on to the third one with both hands. As calmly as I could, I hollered up for him to get down as safely and swiftly as possible. He did, and everything turned out fine, but my heart was in my throat for a little bit.
