The air has grown warm enough to sit without a jacket, but the wind brings a chill each time it passes through in waves. I have left the solitude of our end-of-the-road, edge-of-the-world acreage and come to town, both to do this exercise and pick up some items for dinner at the grocery store.
I pulled the car over and left it to enjoy this small park and sitting area that the town built a few years ago.
Stone planters and wooden benches wear placards honoring those who donated the funds to purchase them, for themselves or loved ones. The bench wood is streaked gray through the brown stain. I believe it is weather, not human use that is fading the colour, for I never see anyone making use of the benches, or the paths or the skate park down at the far end.
The park is lonely for users.
The trees are still bare, even as small buds begin to appear. The branches twist and reach and following them with my eyes is like trying to track my way through a maze. I loose my way and then can't remember where to begin again.
A large Canadian flag flutters
proud, even with an edge tattered
dancing to a tune of its own
like these small towns
not dying, not living
moved by time
and wind
still holding on
I ambled back to the car, and took a drive to look at one of our rivers, hungry to see life.
4 comments:
Karin, I felt a little sad reading about the park lonely for users. I've been to places like you described, not really dying - not really living. Honestly, the past year has been like that for me. So, your words resonated. You going to the river to experience life reminded me of Psalm 42:1 - "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God." Really beautiful post. Thank you for sharing it!
Good post.
We are often in lonely places but never alone. Thankful how you see Karin.
Not dying. Not living. We may all need to get out more.
Still holding on...
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