Musing

today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

9C/490F (high 9C), drizzling, more of the same to come, hard to tell where rain ends and après-rain drizzle begins, they just blend; calm walk around lagoon, shore birds pacing, sneezing (me), then we looped through the neighbourhood - Gusta confused as we were walking just a few hours before - in the dark of night – air seemed charged but not talking a late night/early morning alternative to bad television or laying awake listening to sprinklers play tag with the rain, a day for humming cheesy rainy day Carpenters tunes

shore bird and shore, each would be lost without the other – not connected, but close they have a symbiotic relationship – of closeness – bird travels but not far, not long, returning to walk the shore, like playing a game of tag

things and people don’t automatically become close, become part of our life – distinct things, people, events – things change, the most unlikely of combos become part of the woven fabric of our life – often obscured, like sprinklers in the rain, spilling dirt in a garden or tossing sand into waves – blended, not so easy to define, but no longer something separate

they begin distinctly; a kitchen utensil, a client’s employee, a new acquaintance, a new comfortable sweater – time passes, now that utensil is an indispensable favorite, my contact a treasured friend, that new friend is joy-laughter-heart personified, the sweater never wears out and each of these treasures keeps me comfortable this cold rainy day

ensuing phone call and email exchange to ‘meet for coffee’ dragged on two months – then dinner, a walk, we dated a short while - I went another direction, she ditched me, I returned, she allowed me another chance, momentum gathered; this spring I met this incredible someone as innocuously as one could imagine - after reading a name tag ‘hi, are you related to _____?’

four summers ago, I had a sweet summer romance that ended abruptly in the fall; the following two years I yearned for summer charm on my arm, but no one won my heart - fun, friendship, folly – I found each, but no lightning bug in a jar, no magic in my palm, no skipped heart-beats

my name-tag butterfly, thousands of miles away, is right here, right now, she keeps me warm like this old sweater; as if she was walking with me in the middle of the night in the rainy noisy silence; there is no one here to blend with me, walk with me, talk with me – she’ll be here soon, but not soon enough; as I walked it was as if she was there, moving in the shadows - I miss her touch, her voice, her calming influence, our conversation

as summer romances go, this one is going to take a while longer - a two-season minimum - hope for more seasons, seasoning, spice, life, walks in the rain

scarcely begun, barely begun, summer’s nearly done, we’ve only just begun

Mark Kolke
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