Beware The Facade

Had they been informed beforehand as
many possibly were, it would have been
utterly meaningless to a great swath of
humanity resistant to reality, consumed by
a popular belief that elsewhere lies not only
riches but opportunity to be grasped did
they only make themselves present as they
were entitled to do as human beings
convinced they were in need of fortune
that only a mass exodus of migration to
the West could expedite their futures as
they imagine they might be in this age of
mass communication where television
images of personal and corporate wealth
and Internet connections make possible
the viewing of what awaits them if they
boldly set out despite opposition, despite
danger, despite logic. They choose to place
no credence in the warning that they gamble
with their lives, that those advanced and
democratic, wealthy nations have their very
own indigent populations and hordes of
homeless to be sheltered and cared for.
Convinced and hostile to reality, they
surge forward, certain of their future to be
found elsewhere than in the dissatisfying
environment of their countries of birth.
It is not love of freedom or democracy
that drives them relentlessly forward but the
opportunity to advantage themselves of
the values that others have struggled to
achieve; they eschew the time and the
patience it takes to transform their own
societies to emulate that which they envy
and as they move onward bring with them
the travesties of justice and violations of
human rights that are so much a part of
their heritage, culture, religious convictions.

Je t'adore

His is that rarest of minds imbued with
concern for the welfare of others, an inbred
attribute for which he harbours no sentiments
of 'doing good' but a response integral to his
very nature. It is the essence of his altruistic
soul to sum up people and situations and
unbidden offer to help not for recognition
or any expression of appreciation but as a
compulsion to offer solace or solution and
peace of mind to the stricken, the uncertain
the helpless, vulnerable to lonely self agency.
And nor does he restrict his efforts to aiding
other people for we live amongst other
creatures for whom a compassionate eye
and solitary hand is capable of assisting to
deliver the stricken from a dilemma, but it
the rescue of an insect or an animal other
than humankind steeped in trouble and for
whom intervention leads away from certain
harm. For such a one admiration is boundless
and how fortunate am I to witnessthese acts 
of empathetic human kindness unplanned yet
there when circumstances require, leading me
to love the man more than mere words whisper.

The Date

He has a reputation. People know
about him. But that's all right, I
imagine. He's younger than I happen
to be, and that's all right too, certainly.
I did meet him once before. On the
surface he is an imposing figure
self-assured, cosmopolitan, acutely
intelligent. My impression of just
how a man of authority and one of
professional aptitude should be
actually. We had an interesting
conversation and he made it quite
clear that he wanted to see me again.
So we made a date. Tomorrow's the
big day. I've decided what I'll be
wearing, and I plan to be right on
time. My husband will see to that.
The surgery is scheduled for early
morning and after a brief recuperation
I'll be free to return home. Our two
little dogs will be anxious over our
absence, but they'll calm down soon
after we walk in the door, tension
relieved, the feared deed done.

You Wonder

It is so very nice and actually
life-affirming when you realize
that people who don't really know
you appear to like you. You know
this by the way their eyes light with
recognition of the times you have met
and the sincerity of their voices asking
after you. You respond with gratitude
returning their concern and amity
while wondering what it is that moves
them to welcome your presence. The
conclusion of course is that it is not
necessarily you they so approve of
and that their attitude of positive
social welcome is a reflection of their
own personalities which does nothing
to diminish your pleasure and you
hope somewhere deep within that
what and who you are is entirely in
keeping with their trust that outward
appearances are in fact not deceiving.

 

Secret Garden

It resembles a mirage
the presence of the unexpected
a micro-landscape of exquisite detail
presenting the aesthetic elements
of classical design with a focal
point and the mystic drama of
a miniature landscape
to please the demanding eye
though whose eye is debatable
sited deep within a wilderness forest.
The mountain stream trickling
into a charming pool
riddled with boulders
that once hurtled down the
mountain slope forming a rocky
pathway across the slight stream
bisecting the fastness of the
forest floor. Standing regally
beside the stream a majestic
Yellow birch, its ancient bark
curling in exfoliating beauty
under and surrounding its wide base
a veritable fairy ring of blooming
Lily-of-the-valley, sensitive ferns
ablaze in fresh new life
crowding the forest floor
alongside an understory of
showy dogwood and violets.

Wilderness

The interior of the forest
drenched in muted light
hugs its silence
but for the insistent
soughing of the wind
through its uneven canopy.
Its giant old pines and
birches stand silent
witness to its history
as a climax forest
renewing itself in the
age-old struggle of
vegetation to survive
and thrive until it
no more can
when the integrity of
their grip on life
holding roots firmly
beneath the forest floor
becomes atmosphere
weather and age 
compromised 
when invading insects
and pathogens do their
part to doom the giants
toppling their reign
providing a vacuum 
soon to be filled by
opportunistic saplings
aspiring to take their place
in a conspiracy of nature's
deliberately elegant device
she has elaborated called
birth and death otherwise
known as renewal.

Forest Trek

Finally! No chance of rain, with
clear skies banishing cloud formations
over the mountain peaks auguring a
perfect opportunity to plan for
uninterrupted hours of spring leisure
devoted to mountain trails, the added
bonus of hefty winds penetrating
the forest canopy to fend off biting
insects whose larvae fester forest
ponds and streams on mountain
slopes. Oak and hemlock, birch and
spruce crowd the forest with great
masts of elderly pines looming tall
above. The understory of dogwood
elderberry and striped maple intrude
on narrowing forest trails as robins
woodpeckers and Yellow Admirals
sing, clatter and drift through foliage
soon to welcome the deeper hues of
dusk, bringing closure to the day.

 

A Moment In Time

One moment carefully negotiating the
bog to regain the forest trail, the very
next thinking to yourself oh no this
cannot be happening as your mind
takes careful note of your rotating body
easing itself into the welcoming morass
of the black wet muck while you tumble
introducing yourself slowly it seems
incrementally until you sense yourself
wallowing fully immersed -- legs, torso
head. Cold, wet penetrating through
layers of clothing on this cool, windy
day you embarked upon a remote forest
interior, twilight dim, the glorious scent
of rain-drenched woods, the peal of a
Northern thrush creating a rapture of
expectation, the verdant spring glow
elevating your pulse -- then the fall. Ah
but you did halt your tumble edging at
the crest of the precipice beyond the
gorge and swiftly rose, aromatic and
dense with slime. And it was still a
lovely day, so wet and reeking resumed
your intention to enjoy a long hiking
circuit as the trail partnered alongside a
stream bursting down a mountain slope.

Travelling Light

Free as the wind and the air they 
breathe they travel light whatever can 
fit into saddlebags and helmets don't 
nor do leathers. Hair flying in the 
wind, ears plugged with the gnarling
roar of the beast beneath them their 
choice is manifest; free to live as
unrestrained fortune-tamers. With 
bronzed and tattooed muscular arms 
bellies firmly seated on haunches they 
zestfully set out for adventure on wide 
open highways as they proceed phalanx 
after phalanx sans helmets, sans fear
free to court an obliging Angel of Death 
noting opportunity as motorcycles 
driven by speed fanatics claim their 
right to the road gambling the grisly 
misfortune of colliding with equally 
assertive vehicles recognizing the
challenge of undeterred speed and
the vainglorious conceit of those
prepared to risk all, the contest joined
as the road warrior cliques clash.

 

The Lake's Flora, Fauna

Its surface rippled by incessant wind
the small lake at the foot of the mountain
is surrounded by a forest of towering
hemlock, spruce and yellow birch. The
rich leaf mass of the forest floor
surrounding the lake under scudding
dark clouds reveals rhododendrons
azaleas, raspberry and blueberry bushes
an understory of dogwood and moose
maple circling the lake's perimeter. 
Dragonflies and Damselflies flit from
the water's unruly surface to boulders
nearby, escapees from the mountain's
granite slopes. Tiny white stars of
bunchberry blossoms interrupt the
prevailing green of the forest, even as
the soft pink blush of Ladies Slippers
punctuate the verdant glow of the
forest beyond where Yellow Admirals
float on gusts of wind, swooping and
swiveling in their element while  high
above the forest canopy hawks soar.

At The Hospital

Awfully, so awfully glad to leave that place
so relieved to exit where time and hope are 
an inexhaustible sinkhole of fear and despair 
for those entering in a state of near comatose 
trust that miracles will occurand they too 
will leave with the exuberance with which 
we burst through those swinging doors into 
the bright sunlight of a perfect day.
Gathering place for the halt, the lame and
the blind stumbling, wobbling, hesitant
examples of humanity in their most perilous
period of life's old age, death galloping
hard behind, as their arteries stiffen, their
kidneys and livers surrender, their hearts
and lungs fail along with eyesight and
hearing, and the obese vestiges of an
earlier era barely discernible becoming the
temporary responsibility of the medical
community and its technological advances
to interpret and diagnose both pedestrian and
exotic disease, chronic handicaps, mental
stagnation, desperate to catch up with the
veritable avalanche of humanity's detritus
in need. The blighted sight of their bloated
defeated essence fascinates and frightens
those not yet in the grip of finality. And you
my friend, witness to the spectacle were there
in view of your own age-dysfunctional failure
though bearing of course no resemblance
however remote to that cascading inevitability
of the irreversible decay of human flesh...

Mountain Arras

At the trailhead tall oaks and bark
exfoliating yellow birches conceal the
forest beyond, bright white blossoms of
raspberry canes relieve the gloom of an
overcast day, and robins sing in
expectation of rain. The mountain trail
winds steeply as it mounts toward its
summit destination. A stream courses
downhill in a narrow trickle from above
perfect habitat for breeding black flies.
Boulders strewn artfully alongside the
trail and among them, blueberry shrubs
and lilies-of-the-valley crowd chummily
around tree trunks of pine, oak and
hemlock. Moose maple and dogwood
comprise the understory. The trail
littered with last fall's abundance of
acorns. The forest floor damp and ferned.
In the dim interior light of the forest
shades of green glow and pulsate
the mountain slope thick with flora
a Northern thrush pealing its praise.
The trail is worn from booted generations
of hikers, erosion revealing a network
of tree roots. The sun timidly probes its
warming rays through parted clouds
then withdraws as wind and darkened
cloud cover make good on the promise
of rain. At the summit, wind-blasted
trees and alpine vegetation sparsely
cover cracks and shallow deposits of
soil on the mountain's granite face.

Disconnect

It is one of the absurd idiosyncrasies
of human nature that we sometimes
know the lives of strangers more
intimately than we do of those most
familiar to our everyday lives. We
deliberately restrain ourselves to
refrain from divulging too much
about our fears and our problems
to those we've long known, yet if
the time is right and the mood
overtakes in sensing empathy of
chance and brief acquaintance all 
is released in a stream of virtual
subconscious revelations, our most
vulnerable thoughts and concerns
theirs to consider, weigh and commiserate
upon. They too become old familiar
faces seen but thrice in as many years
when a need requires a reprieve and
the brief rapport of emotive concern
exchanges as strangers fulfill a role
spreading the balm of human concern
in the pain of life's solitary misfortune.

The Forest Fast

It could be a morosely dark day for
the forest interior is dim and drenched
dusk an early intruder. But the rain has
stopped and an evening thrush sends
its sublime trill through the sodden
atmosphere and the crystal mountain
brook cascades riotously over boulders
that tumbled from the mountain slopes
aeons ago. Deciduous trees newly leafed
glow with a tumult of fresh greens
luminescent in their wet aplomb.
Glowing Ladies Slippers whisper
confidences to Lilies-of-the-Valley strewn
about the forest floor. The understory of
dogwood and moose maple shift in the
wind, droplets easing upon mountain
sorel as elderly hemlocks tipped with
chartreuse new growth lighten the
atmosphere, while red pines soar
to profound heights, their trunks
elegantly tattooed with mosses and
feathered with gray fantasies of lichen.

The Road Trip

You plan and you pack and you
take to the open road driving to a
destination anticipating the change
ahead. If but briefly routine is
interrupted, the familiar left behind
an adventure in the distance and you
yearn to meet it. Your life expands
with expectation so even the lively
colourful sights of spring wildflowers
on the boulevard take on meaning
the daisies and lupins, hawkweed 
and fleabane portend the unexpected
and then two does suddenly appear
beside the highway as you fervently
will them not to cross but turn
back into the verdant woods they
erupted from as you pass. Your 
windshield dapples with rain as a
vulture soars above, the wind quite
obligingly lofting it ever higher its
dihedral spread with leisure under
the dark gathering of storm clouds.

 

The Sodden Scene

Where the mountain summits
reach the sky both are shrouded
in marbled-grey-streaked clouds
and copiously falling rain with
mist rising from the tree-crowded
slopes and the valley below.
There is no sound, an absence of
birds on this formidable day of
promiscuous misery, dark and
dismal and even the lake below 
is shadowed by the all-pervasive 
gloom of perpetual, petulant dusk
on a day that recognizes the
presence of unrelieved night.

Memorable Arras

The mountain trail is deeply
corrugated, ladders of tree roots
etching the soil, dark and moist
from the spray of the mountain
stream boiling ferociously over
the bald granite rock face
tumbling and roaring down
the mountainside to reach the
boulder-crowded stream below
the landscape gripped tightly
in a bruised dark cloud cover
sending opaque grey clouds of
ragged mist obscuring the
mountain peaks. The understory
of dogwood plentifully resembling
ground cover in the rich humus
of the forest floor. Hemlocks
soar to great heights alongside
oak and maple and majestic
yellow birch, exfoliating bark
rich in moss and lichen, the
atmosphere redolent of time 
and the graciousness of nature.

The Lonely Planet

There are times in anyone's life when the
feeling of being bereft, frightened and alone
descends and emotional desolation takes 
possession of the soul in a descent into the
black abyss of loneliness. No one is immune
from this uncertainty so immense it overwhelms
and isolates and the wish to cry out in the
agony of aloneness suffocates the mind that
has surrendered its intelligence to the spirit
of pure unadulterated fear. We all know that in
the final analysis when nature prepares us for
our final departure we will be alone in the 
vast darkness of nothing. But it is while we
make our way through life that we seek the
comfort of another soul's search when two
meet and the spark of love bursts into flame
yet for all too many among  us the goal 
proves elusive and lonely deprivation is the
result leaving those souls lost and bereaved
that their fate is to be condemned to facing
life less the comfort of a steadfast companion
whose presence balms the weary soul. They
are not alone for many who have committed
to sharing life discover that their choice has
been in error leaving them to pursue the
endless search to no avail. This is, for far
too many bruised spirits the reality they 
face absent another human touch reaching
their absent solace. They roam the byways
of life with descending hope buoyed by the
occasional opportunity to relieve their inner
tension spilling their life-misery to briefly met
strangers through the ethernet, passing by
chance on a trip seeking solace, finding none.