Chapter 192
It’s deceptively large. Thus said I this morning discussing the volume capacity of a glass pot.
The optical and sensible illusions of life…
We are blown away by the magnificence of mountains, they look soft and rolling, coated in a fuzz of greenery, yet up close it’s a tangled mass of spiky things, brittle edges, drifting scree and dangerous descents. This is even more dramatic in Andalusia where my parents live. Just a few moments from the concrete linear organization of the town, the undulations and sudden changes of the landscape make travel an exercise in mindfulness. Maintaining footing and planning a route through that winding chaos of tumbled rocks, spiky mediterranean plants and the occasional buzzing colony of bees, is a challenge. So thankful the recent traumatic and fatal fires decided to stay the other side of the valley to my parents’ home.
The Alberta skies are phenomenal, just a couple of evenings ago when out rather late, we had to sit by the road watching the great painter in the sky splashing colour hither and yon, lighting up a horizontal stretch of glittering silver-gold and illuminating clouds as though looking at the ocean’s horizon… yet far above the silhouette of aforementioned mountains.
Deceptively small mosquitoes were bouncing off the car windows as my partner stood outside, oblivious to the tiny beasts’ shenanigans. Were I to stand outside with him my body would have been reduced to a mass of red bulging blisters and itching madness within seconds. How nice it would be to have the blood type that they don’t like to suck.
Last night I somehow got caught out and today my head is a burning mass of irritation. Darn things create such a dramatic reaction in my skin. Ugh.
The energy of crowds… we took our lives in our hands to explore a day at the Stampede grounds… wandering the buildings exploring exhibitions, marvelling at beautiful and talented reining and cutting horses, heavy horses, displays of this and that. Sampling a rather good pizza and a pretty synthetic ice cream, then retreating to a delightfully cool and calm cafe at the midpoint when we had reached a somewhat frazzled stage from the heat and the people. We checked out some of the fun in the Indian Village, a secluded outpost that always smacks slightly of something added on rather than an integral element… Indian games that harness the talents and focus needed for later life, a much more entertaining and also practical way to play than with thumbs on a keyboard. This reminded me strongly of the great difference between today’s urban existence for most and my childhood spent out of doors, creating someting from nothing, diving into scenes of imagination from hundreds of books read, extrapolating outward into the wild existence around me. Hiding in the woods, building retreats beneath bushes and trees. I am thankful that the computer world had only just begun to obliterate the rest of reality as I entered my later youth.
Back to those crowds…the heaving mass of people marching through the grounds, cowboy hats and boots, denim for miles… it’s a fascinating and entertaining event and utterly draining after a while. Rolling south in the train, packed shoulder to shoulder in a sweltering boxcar, we headed away from the heart of the city, stopping for dinner at a favourite place…stepping out of the car I was suddenly swept up in the startling peace and space after being crowded and bombarded with input for the remainder of the day. Inside, a clean, crisp environment with fresh and delicious food that fed both body and soul. A good way to end the day.
Grateful for the space, peace and beautiful greenery amid which we spend our days out here. It behooves us to treat everything with greater appreciation and to be circumspect about what is brought into this land, and why.
Thank you for reading.
Kat Dancer
bodymudra@gmail.com,
+1 415 525 2630 (ph/whatsapp)
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