Thursday, October 08, 2009

Way station


Lonely
Ingersoll, ON, September 2009


On the last stop before arriving home, I stood outside the wondervan while Debbie picked up some snacks inside with the kids. It was unseasonably, shockingly cold and windy, and I suddenly seemed underdressed in my sandals, cargo shorts and hoodie. But still, I stood there, because it nevertheless felt good to have the cold air on my face. It reinforced that I was still alive and that I could still feel.

As I waited in this transient place, I found myself staring at the fuel pumps across the parking lot. This little island of light in the middle of a forgettable night seemed so mournful, so uninviting to anyone who had some extra time and was looking for a place to hang. But still, I stared.

And I took out my camera. Because that's one of the things I do when I need to feel normal, myself. And I leaned carefully against the car, relaxed every fibre of my being to compensate for the fact that I was about to shoot handheld in the dark (can we say blur? I knew we could.) As I carefully adjusted the controls, composed the shot and squeezed the shutter, I felt a sense of, if not normalcy, then at least a sense of partial control.

Before long, my brood returned, ready for final leg of a long and difficult journey. As I accelerated onto the onramp, the limitless loneliness of this fluorescent-bathed place in the middle of an endlessly dark road was gradually replaced by the near-musical chatter of three sweet kids, an amazing wife and a feeling deep in my soul that somehow, together, we'd all figure out the next step on our journey as a family.

7 comments:

quilly said...

Life is made of such moments.

Cloudia said...

Your pain is making a poet of you, Carmi.


Aloha, Friend!

Comfort Spiral

Chris Tea said...

I find the camera centers me too. And so do my chattering children. I love photos at night and mine are always blurry!

Gallow said...

Wow!!!! Excellent photo. I love the lighting and the lack of lighting. Great work!!!

Mojo said...

As a veteran of many hand-held night shots, I can appreciate the difficulty. But as usual, you overcame it in grand fashion. May you always be so agile at navigating the bumps in the road.

I read a fabulous quote this morning on a blog I was visiting for the first time:

"Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...
it's about learning how to dance in the rain."
- Unknown


That guy "Unknown" and his cousin "Anonymous" should publish a book. 'Cause they really seem to have it pegged.

gel said...

mmmm- You caught the moment so well. As an artist, I have felt this whatever medium I'm using.
(I don't know if you remember years back but I found you and your blog. Then I may have signed my posts "green-eyed lady" instead of the shortened version of gel.)

I'm happy to see you're still writing and photographing.

kanishk said...

I find the camera centers me too. And so do my chattering children. I love photos at night and mine are always blurry! Work From Home