centre of the universe - the dreaming: Skinny legs and all

07/08/2008: "Skinny legs and all" While I sit in front of der machine mit der blinken lights und der butten pushen, I think there is something intensely magical about living near water. I think of the sodbusters and pioneers who came west and north, breaking open the prairie, digging wells, hoping the rain would come. I like to try to imagine what this place would have looked like with no fences, no roads, no fields of barley and field peas...just acre after acre of prairie wool and grass. Maybe a cart path, the odd deer trail...and the hot July sun and the crickets and the blackflies and mosquitoes.

I also like to imagine there being, somehow, easily available ice-cold beer in that scenario.

Tell me about your favourite summer memory.

"The days are losing tempo" "SShhhhhh."

3 Comments

Smarty Pants , on Wednesday, 9th July:

There must be something to this "water" thing...my favourite memory of summer is sitting in a boat on a cold, northern lake. The breeze was slight, the sun hot, the beer ice cold, and the fish couldn't keep themselves off my line. Smallest catch that day was 10 pounds. My two buddies and I barely spoke to each other all afternoon, but it was a *good* silence, know what I mean? Just sun, water, and a certain knowledge that I would remember that day until my final one.

The Ms. S , on Wednesday, 9th July:

It's hard to pick one memory that's clearly all one event. I think they are all a composite of swimming memories. One that stands out is taking the tugboat on Saturday's with my recreation group to McNab's Island, just outside the mouth of the Halifax harbour. Since we were mostly all children of navy men we felt proud of our sailoring abilities. Anyone that got motion sickness on the way and had to go above deck was considered a wimp of the lowest sort.

The island was magical. Deserted, with a jetty and gorgeous gold sand beaches that were braced by green grass dunes and pine trees. There were a few old limestone ruins around, the product of the previous century or so. There were no organized activities for us there, no crafts to take home to our moms and no games with rules. We just swam in the ocean, played in the sand and clambered over the dunes. We just had to stay in sight of our rec leader.

I found it shocking one lived on that island. It was just so beautiful. It had stayed wild and I loved that about it. I knew that if that island was mine it wouldn't be deserted, I would be there all the time.

Viper Pilot , on Wednesday, 16th July:

I miss the storms rolling across the prairies. Y'know, the ones you can see coming for, like, an hour. And the rumbly-grumbly thunder. And the lightning that fills the great big sky. Man, that is the shizzle.

Big storms in Australia just rain a lot without much of a show. Or, if there is a show being put on by the storm, the storm is also tearing your neighbourhood apart, so it's hard to enjoy.

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