Sometimes we do not know what to say, and so say nothing.
Sometimes life's issues are just too intense to commit to print. In my life there are issues as deep and dark as the Marianas Trench, the home of creatures so fantastic that the stuff of everyday life disappears in light of contrast. The life below cannot be seen from the surface. To communicate the meaning of such issues one would need the reader to abandon all of the known world, forsake assumptions, suspend disbelief, and travel into the depths of the unknown. The English language provides for no such journey.
Who am I to change the world with words?
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." (A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens) I remember when I first read these words. I was a fourteen-year-old girl, gangly with a toothy grin. Cold wind blew in through the rickety, ill-fitted window frame beside the bed I shared with a sister, where I lay reading the required text for an English class. The room was freezing cold but the air was filled with the fire of curses and conflict from down the stairs. Temporarily safe in a tower of ice, the power of the printed words filled me with hope.
The past week has found me returning to the words of Dickens. It is certainly the best of times. I am loved, well fed, well sheltered, and able to think my own thoughts. These luxuries are not shared by most of the people on the planet or by most of the people in history. As well, we are celebrating the union of my beautiful daughter and her chosen. There is much joy here.
It is also the worst of times. Love does not conquer all. I have been thinking a great deal about something Attila said recently; that "love is, above all else, tenacious". At the end of the day, when the conquerors have returned to their lairs with their bloody booty, love sifts through the smoking rubble, collects, mourns, and begins again. When we hear the distant thunder of war, all we can do is wait, and remember the phoenix.
After many weeks of happy social engagements, Attila and I found a free afternoon to sit in the sand, under the pines. We meant to get away first thing in the morning. However, fate would not have it. We paid our dues, spent time appeasing the gods of propriety, and extricated Terra from yet another potential fiasco. I was partially to blame really, the word NO needs to come to my lips more readily. It is better to face the disapproval of the young before situations have developed beyond the family compound.
Once away, Attila and I enjoyed ourselves tremendously. We sat quietly, in a secluded part of The Pinery Provincial Park, reading and staring into the dreamlike landscape. We were soothed and rejuvenated by the aroma of sun-baked pine needles. We replenished our energies with grilled chicken, vegetables, and ice cold lemon water. After a visit to the beach, we spent a quiet ride home talking and laughing together.
It was a day to remember, surely.
|RECIPES :: Cast
By the Easy Chair
by Janet Fitch
1:22 PM DST
Temp: 26` C
Wind: SE 17 km/h
Sunrise 6:12 AM DST
Sunset 8:50 PM DST
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