Spring has arrived dressed in spectacular winter finery. The temperatures are cold, the snow glitters in the warm sunshine. Although the Vernal Equinox is an observable phenomenon, its designation as the first day of Spring is arbitrary in a uniquely human sense. Children are often confused here in Canada, by the lack of correlation between the first day of Spring and the Spring images of daffodils and greening grass so prolific in the media and retail world.
A weather person on "The Weather Network" this morning said that, "March is the cruel month". I could not agree more. It is in March that the last storms of winter batter our weary psyches here in Canada. We long for warmth and color. Brief periods of warm weather lure our hopes into the open where Arctic winds can easily catch them. March is a month of hope and almost certain disappointment.
However, today is the twenty-third of March and in just nine days April will arrive. Although wintry storms occasionally invade the month of April, it is not common. One may begin to hope with enthusiasm once March is behind us.
There are times in my life when physicality becomes almost meaningless. Taken with my thoughts, I leave behind all sense of the corporeal world. Eating is easily forgotten and hunger becomes a recurring annoyance.
At times like these, I appreciate Attila more than I can say. Attila is firmly rooted in the physical world, where I am not. Attila religiously honors his appetite for nourishment, where I can be entirely without redemption. As an occasional and unrepentant lost soul, it behooves me to follow reason blindly. When Attila prepares a meal, I eat. When Attila snacks, I emulate. Good health is ensured.
What is occupying my mind? Technical stuff, to be sure, takes up a lot of my focus. However, the most interesting subject of reverie these days is people, women to be more but not particularly specific. The class I am taking is chock full of interesting female characters that provide an incredible feast for thought. I feel different and the same all at once. Odd, sometimes disturbing, but not in the least bit dull.
Another area of my interest is the palpable past. Like many others, genealogy has caught my fancy. This interest has provided pleasant exchanges with cousins, second cousins, and distant relatives of all descriptions. My interest has spread beyond my own genetic gene pool to the geographic area where my ancestors pioneered. These are the people and the places that have shaped my values.
Mythogenesis during my childhood was geographically rooted and spun by those who would feel the direct consequences of their creations. Progress has changed this age-old pattern of social behavior. When the mobility of people, goods, and information was limited, many of the consequences of profit and competition were painfully evident. A limited but effective local accountability existed, a precarious balance was maintained for centuries at a time.
My own children have been profoundly influenced by remote reality brokers such as teachers, television, and peer-groups. My grandchildren will be influenced by the even more remote Internet and other forms of mass communication that have yet to be developed. It seems that as we experience "progress", the quality of our unity, our connections, and our communities' declines.
It seems ironic that I find personal solace in a cathode ray tube.
Patrick Logier like to quote the mass media as "chewing gum for the mind". Although I doubt that we are all chewing in unison, I do not doubt that we are all chewing.
|RECIPES :: Cast
Skyline in March
By the Easy Chair
Families: Ontario Genealogical Society
vol 41 - no. 1
On the Screen
Hearts in Atlantis
starrring Anthony Hopkins
based on a novel by Stephen King
Wind: NW 28 km/h
Sunrise 6:22 AM EST
Sunset 6:40 PM EST
Page by Page: A Woman's Journal