Trains

#2

Why are trains so magical?

Something about the low, baseline pounding of the wheels on the tracks as the world flies by at incredibly high speeds. The blinding light of the sun burning your eyes, almost like it’s trying to discourage you from leaving. Power lines hug the rail road tracks, guiding the train out of civilization and into the country. The cityscape slowly transforming into a beautiful landscape of green field.  The sky scrapers and hard pavement being replaced by endless forests and quiet dirt roads.  The deep blue of the rocks around the tracks blur into one fluidic object, making them appear of as thin river which the trains floats above towards its destination.

There is also something magical about being between places. When traveling I find one exists on the fringe of existence in some ways. You truly are “neither here, nor there”. I’ve always enjoyed the sensation of traveling. The anticipation of change – how those you haven’t seen extended period of time have changed, also how those you left behind will have changed when you return. I once had a discussion with someone, about how the accessibility of people’s lives over the internet has ruined some of the magic of traveling – I’ll admit, it does take away from the aspect of discovering change in people lives – but right now it seems irrelevant. Reading on Facebook about an event in someone’s life never truly hits home for me until I see them in person. I know what has happened to my friends in Ottawa, but I’m so very excited to hear it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

I know that I promised a ton of moments, but I came to the realization that there’s still a week of summer left, and concluded that I should stave off my litany until the last wisp of summer gives way to fall. Besides, summer for me is a mindset, not just a series of regularly hot days in a row. It’s more the hot days and cool nights, the suffocating humidity and the artificial cold of air conditioners.

Its about BBQ parties which run until the early morning.

Its cold beer on the patio and warm conversation with your best friends.

Its late night walks, going so long and so far that your feet hurt the next day.

See you soon.

-E

Orange and Blue (Summer P1)

#1

1. Quietly floating on the  surface of Harvey’s Lake on an inter-tube at sunset. Orange and blue sky stretching out into the horizon. Dragonflies chasing each other over the water, glancing off the surface in perfect unison. Distant sounds of family – the buzz of  faraway voices engaging in many conversations. The smell of fresh water, accentuated by the taste of clean, crisp air.

Cool winds pushing clouds across the horizon, the first hint of darkness threatening to engulfing the orange and blue streaks that colour the sky. Eyes closing. Breathing in from the mouth, exhaling from the nose. Feelings of content slowly overtaking the feelings of loss.  Memories in my head forming a slide show of that weekend:

The rush of tubing.

The smell of fireworks.

The flashes of sparklers spelling out names in the dark.

The feeling of the wick burning itself across my thumb.

The pride in having a scar to brag about.

The pain of having my eyebrows pulled out by the root.

The joy of an inside joke that will last for years.

The agony of watching your loved ones mourn a heavy, heavy loss.

Strong waves from the jet-boat pushing the inter-tube back to the shore, the murmurings of good stories and the promise of laughter. Shadows casting into the grass. Life returning to normal in the face of the unthinkable.

-E

Neglect

My bad.

Two crazy months fly by and I left my blog, collecting a thick layer of internet dust. Short of the long: death in the family followed by a period of mourning, followed by two weeks of catch up for two 6 week courses. I’ve been stressed, and saved my words for the school work.

Despite all tragedy of my late aunt Debra, my family is now closer then we’ve ever been. I’m sure the late matriarch, Grandma Mim, would be glad to know that we maintain such a close bond to each other in her memory. My Dad quietly had his 60th birthday and got to spend it with his 3 brothers – I don’t think he’d have it any other way.  Mourning has little known side affect, forcing yourself to reevalutate your current ties to people, deciding to either re-enforce or neglect that bond – i’ve decided work harder on maintain some of my long lasting relatonships, and I think he has too. I recently rediscovered a relationship with someone in my past, all because she woke up from a dream and decided to re-connect.

Due to people’s incessant nagging inspiring commentary, I’m going to be upping my posts – approximately one a day 10 days. Stay tuned.  Here’s my token musical contribution – the power of mourning, and the empowerment of expressing it.

-E