Archive for October, 2011
The Solid Earth
Darkness claimed the windows, a pure unrelenting blackness of country night. Nearly unrelenting. Out one side, the faint gleam of the yard light could be seen, pushing feebly at the night. The trees shadowed the starlight, and the moon did not show her face. A mere slip of a thing, she hid from eyes that would see her here. The trees swayed in the breeze, their tops singing in the inhuman undulating voice of the wild things, wind against living wood. I could walk among them, unnoticed and small, place my hands on their trunks, steady and unmoving despite the frolics of their canopy, and be completely unremarkable. The earth held them up, gave their roots the purchase the impossibly tall trees needed. I could wander among them, and contemplate my own insignificance. Had I fear of my own passing, I could take out a sharp knife, metals drawn out of the earth and ground into a shape pleasing to man. I could take this edge and set it against the bark and carve my scratchings into the skin of the tree. Without fear of being swatted. Like a moth beating against a window. Unremarked. Should I suppose this means the trees are less than myself? That I can swat a mosquito, but the plant giants are so very different than I that not even hacking them to death can arouse their response? Perhaps I would better spend my time contemplating the place of all things in the world, how the trees provide paper to write on, logs to build with, wood to burn and keep man alive in the winter. How trees grow lush on graves, the bodies of the fallen feeding the net of life all around us.
My thoughts spin slowly and sedate, contemplating trees and stars and darkness, thinking on the breath rolling in and out of my lungs, the faint hunger in my belly prompting thoughts of what I might have to snack on. Dog is outside the house, and as I idly skim over a small corner of the internet, I can hear her collar jingling as she runs up and down beside the house. She passes by the window once, twice. My eyes flit over a blog post, another mention of the brutality of Oakland police to Occupation protestors.
A shiver, of the very air itself. The door I am sitting beside starts shifting in its frame, creaking and then banging. The house groans, and I feel as if I crouch like a mouse as a herd of horses thunder by. I am crouching, laptop snapped shut in my arms, body low to the ground and eyes frantic. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my blood, my muscles twitching and electric with the ability to move. The floor rocks and trembles under my feet. I scan the air, trying to determine which way to run. Where is the herd of giant horses? What machine could this be? What is falling, over and over?
Before I can fully reason out what to flee from, the shaking stops. The house falls quiet, and the other dog barks once. I stand, eyes wide and limbs trembling. Could that have been….?
I hear the sounds of someone gently stirring in the bed just beyond the room I am currently shivering in. This person is one who is familiar with the area.
“Was… was that an earthquake?” I ask hesitantly. There can be no other explanation for this situation, so far outside of anything I have experienced before.
“Yeah, just a little one. Should be no damage.” The sleepy reply comes back, and all falls still.
A earthquake! I have never experienced an earthquake before, and now that it is over, and nothing has been damaged, and indeed, it is scarcely noticed by the others used to this area. I am thrilled to have been able to experience a small one.
But I feel slightly more wary of the earth, even as I walk about on it’s surface as usual.
Shots in the Dark
The eggs sizzled promisingly, the only sound in the darkened kitchen. Well, there were other sounds, but this was the one I was most interested in. I could hear music from the other room, a song about living simple at the end of a pitted gravel road. Fitting for my current situation. The night air came in through the open kitchen window. Crickets chirped, and I could hear the faint jingle of a dog scratching their collar. The stars were just visible, past the towering trees. The wind was playing in the tops, swaying the leafy canopy far above, merely setting the trunks to quivering ever so slightly. If I listened carefully, I could hear the soft whooshing of the wind, like a river just around the corner.
The smell of the eggs was growing, combining with the sharp cheddar I had grated into the pan, mingling with the spices. Simple fare, but it would keep me going. It was also one of my favorite meals that I can make quickly and easily. That went a long way to endearing it to me as well. I was looking forward to a quiet meal for this quiet evening.
The sound of shots rang out, loud in the otherwise still evening. I jumped in my skin, and would’ve dropped anything I was holding. My host was shooting off rounds into the darkened forest. In the distance, I could hear a neighbor answer with a few rapid shots of his own. After a moment, I could hear some more shots even further down the valley. Just another evening at the end of the gravel road, with people bein’ neighborly. I unwound my shoulders and finished my cooking.
I headed upstairs to watch a movie and enjoy my dinner. After another round, the shooting had died down again, and everyone was back to their drinking. After the movie, after dishes, I headed back outside. The stars were bright above my head, and the moon was less than half full. I listened to the soft night sounds. Dog should be coming up any moment now, sensitive to the sounds of my feet in the front porch. I stood a moment, looking around. Where was she?
“Dog?” I asked, looking about. Have you ever tried to spot a black dog on a near moonless night under the tall trees? I highly recommend it. A wonderful exercise to keep one humble.
When there was no response from my usually attentive dog, I called a bit louder. I stepped away from the front porch and further into the darkness. The inky pools under the trees stared back, unrevealing. Here was the other dog, annoyingly excitable in the face of my attempts to listen for my dog. I shooed away the other dog, and called again.
There. The faint jingle of her collar tags. I listened, but the sound did not repeat.
“Dog?” I queried the darkness. A whine answered me, and I turned.
The front porch was about five feet off the ground, and the open face of it had been fenced in with trellis. Behind the cheerfully crossed pattern of the light wood, I saw the starlight glint off Dog’s eyes. I could hear her panting gently in distress at being unable to come to me, and I could hear the faint whoosh of her tail wagging with pleasure at my attention. Her eyes beseeched me, completely confident I would be able to extract her from this predicament. I sighed.
I went back inside and fetched a light. Sliding down the slight slope of the earth beside the fenced in porch, I came to a corner. I reasoned that this inside right angle was probably where she has forced her way thru the trellis to hide from the gunshots. Sure enough, I found a place where one sheet of trellis could be just pushed in, allowing something frightened and silly to get in. Once in however, there was no way to force back out. I sighed, and teetered on a tumble of concrete clumps to push in the trellis. The other dog figured I was finally coming down to her level, and she immediately wriggled right into my way, attempting to smear my face with her muddy tongue. I shoved the other dog away with a curse, the only language she seemed to pay heed to. One more glare was needed to keep the other dog at bay, and then I pushed at the trellis again. Dog slithered around the corner, claws scrabbling on the debris under the porch. The slope was awkward, but she did manage to squeeze out.
Dog was ecstatic, pouncing all over the ground before me. The other dog leaped on her, teeth nipping her and growling in her exuberant adolescent way. Dog shook her off, and continued to celebrate her freedom and my attention. I sighed, and scratched her behind the ears, pushing away the other dog again. I had no doubt Dog would not hesitate to get under the deck again should more shots be fired off. Of course, then I could rescue her again, and cause such delight. Some things about a dog’s life are pretty simple.
Red Earth, Green Trees
The sky is a chalky blue, contrasting with the red soil. The sun has made it out from the clouds of last week, and you can feel the humidity climb as it disperses the moisture from the ground into the air. The paved road snaking thru the protected forest is dappled in sunlight and shadow, bars of muggy heat and simple mugginess. I have been walking in the forest, getting reacquainted with the area. It has been a time of peace and of rest, and it does me good. I breath and walk, and enjoy the simple things of life.
Sadly, it makes for quite poor story material. I shall have to find a mountain lion tail to tweak, or a silly girl to rescue out of the woods. For my readers, of course.
Message in Time
Posted by Nadia in Getting There on October 2, 2011
The little white lines on the road flashed by, a trail leading to… anywhere. I followed, settling into the shush of tires on pavement. The second step in my journey. Starting in Edmonton, I had driven down to Calgary and spent some time visiting. I had worked a bit more on the car, with the help of my dad, and his tools. Tracking down the faint coolant smell resulted in a new radiator and one hose. Not too bad, all told. The parts for the tiny old civic continue to be cheap. The new seat covers were also admired. I knew my fine taste would be appreciated! That done, I figured my car was pretty likely to make it over the mountains to Vancouver, the next leg of my journey. I had meant to set out that night, but Doris produced a bottle of wine, and I simply had to stay for a glass. By the time visiting was done, and I do loathe to hurry visiting, it was rather late. Since the forecast for the next day looked like rain, I figured my little non-ac car and I could make a day run over the passes. No real need to travel at night. So I stayed one more night in Calgary. My mum was kind enough to put Dog and I up for another night, so we stayed there. The only thing about my mum’s place is her obscene idea of morning. Keep in mind this was on a saturday. She knocked on my door at about 6:30. I muttered and sent out the dog. That ought to distract her for a bit. I did manage to get an early start however, and it turned out well.
It was just after Banff that I started feeling a bit tired. I blamed the early hour of rising, and found a pull out to stop at. I parked the car behind a resting big rig, and lay down across my passenger seat. I closed my eyes, for however long it took to refresh me.
I stood in the mist. Swirling grey patterns all around me, none of it distinctive. A woman came walking out of the mist, dressed in blue jeans and a red t shirt. her long brown hair seemed unaffected by the wet air. Indeed, she seemed to be walking in a beam of sunlight. Odd. She came up to me.
“Do you have your papers in order?” She asked, kindly brown eyes meeting mine. I stared back, uncertain.
“I…I think so.” I replied.
“All your papers? You should check.” She was reassuring, and I found myself smiling back.
With that, I woke up. Glancing around, I reoriented myself. Still parked behind the rig, still raining slightly. The wind moaned thru the straps on the rig in front of me, producing an eerie mournful sound. It reminded me of the Ocean Pipes in Croatia. I smiled at the favored memory. What a strange dream.
Slowly, a thought surfaced, like a sandbar as the tide goes out. Did I have my papers in order? For crossing the border? Yes. What was tugging at my mind? Ah, my car registration was about to expire. Well, at the end of the month, but I would still be in Cali at that time. I checked my iphone. THe BC border loomed just before me, withe the last Alberta registry in Banff, sixteen kilometers behind me. Even happened to be open on a Saturday. Guess I better do that sooner rather than later.
I checked the clock. I had only been asleep for about ten minutes. Just long enough for the message to be delivered.
Wherever you are, Be There 