As the first term of adventure came to an end, I headed north. Friends awaited me, the cold and the snow embraced me, and I embraced it. I camped in a jail, I wandered snow capped streets and fogged engulfed river streams. The government of a gentler nation welcomed me into their quarters.
Up there I felt strange, people with courtesy, strange accents and slow cars penetrated my synapses. The mist had a strange calm and yet a subtle sadness. I missed my new home. I *had* a new home. What is this feeling when you realise your past is now firmly your past and you have entered into a new life, a new dream, a new now?
What now? I thought travelling forward would be the key. It seems now travelling back to the perfect point was the mission. They say the grass is greener, but no one ever mentions if the grass is knee deep in uniquely frozen droplets?
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
A step back into colder times?
Snow, the beginning
The snow is falling outside. Even when hauling shitty bed frames and old crusty mattresses, the snow brings a certain peace. I hope it falls through the night so I may be greeted with the white glow of a fresh winter morn. Whichever way it goes, I'm in New York City, and I am happy.
I cannot wait to hit Central Park. I'm taking a german beauty with me. We will frollick, we will throw snowballs, and when it is all over, we will retire to the warmth of our home where I will dispense warm coffee to frozen weary travellers.
This is what life is. This is how we live. This is what I will tell me grandchildren when my hip is gone but my spirit still strong. This is what gives me some kind of purpose.
I have begun a new journey; I'm in the middle of an old journey; and I am continuing the never ending, never beginning journey since the universe first exploded. I am dropping my grain into the sandy beach. One day perhaps it will make some beautiful glass. For now, I'm happy being the speck, because I'm my own speck.
