Saturday, January 15, 2011
Jagged little tree
Laval, QC, November 2010
I originally wanted to share this photo as part of last week's "wet" theme. But in the middle of the wild week we had, it ended up getting lost in the drafts pile. So I'm calling it a far from home pic. Here's why:
I took this photo around the same time that I shot this one. The light was fading, and I was walking, quickly and alone, along the shore of the near-silent tributary, looking for inspiration before night closed in for good.
I had come here to visit a childhood friend who had just lost his mom. I was staying with my own mom. Since she and my father moved here, I often walked these grounds, using the precious "alone time" to put our visits in perspective. Family can often be hard, so little breaks like this had become part of my away-from-home routine.
Now that my father's gone, these solitary walks by the water have taken on a different tone. He loved this place, and saw it as his mission to get all of his friends to move nearby. He loved these grounds, and always talked about what was going on here. To anyone else, it was an unremarkable stretch of land by the water. To him, it was a kingdom, with a narrative that unfolded every time he felt well enough to get on the phone.
So on this evening, I walked silently and thought about journeys - mine since childhood, my friend's after losing his last parent, my mother's now that she looks out her window at scenes like this, alone. I felt very separated from the things most precious to me - my wife and our kids - and felt a sudden chill at the prospect of being this far from them. I guess I needed a hug.
I couldn't come up with any bright-minded solution to banish any of the dark themes that now clouded my thoughts, but I thought this disjointed reflection on the water's surface summarized my feelings quite nicely.
Your turn: Where do you find quiet time? Why does it matter?