Circumnavigating time and space on a weekend afternoon

Once the storm sorted itself and the lights were restored yesterday morning, we found ourselves plunged back into a bright summer intercession between a heat wave and autumn.  Each of us went off in a different direction for the morning, mine being into Point Pleasant Park, where water was flowing in every gully as well as through a few stone walls.  Ponds had become deeper and swamps had appeared where there had been recently dry ground. The paths that are wood chipped smelled of the wood’s core.

We joined up again for an afternoon trip to the movies because no one else in Nova Scotia would be the right fellow travellers for Taking Woodstock. Fred’s just a week away from Wavy Gravy world in Mendocino and, just to show off the cultural balance in his life, a bit part in the movie went to a former ballet partner of his. I can see, a little, why the critics have been luke warm about this flick, but the heavy handed visual references to documentary footage, the fairly cute main story (made up) and the mud worked for us.

Bob’s forever torn between remembering being Fred’s age now when he first saw Country Joe McDonald, in a dress, bringing war consciousness to Occidental, an almost always standing in line with him at Oakland Kaiser whenever either of them needed to have their kids’ prescriptions filled.

We were all a bit loopy when we went back into the late afternoon sun.  At Bayers Lake.  The middle of suburban Halifax. A car ride from anywhere real. No mud. Even after Danny.


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