View allAll Photos Tagged thoughts...
Inspired by the lovely Shari Carroll's watercolor and "glitterizing of flowers" techniques.
Butterfly (PS158)
Florentine Scroll (S1838)
Thoughts Today (E3196)
The other day I was inveigled into driving to Pendine. I thought of all those scarved, goggled, speed-crazed fellows like Malcolm Campbell, Henry Seagrave and John Cobb who posed, modestly grinning, on the pages of my copy of Every Boy's Book of Record-Breakers, or whatever it was called. Cobb's record attempts took place, I seem to remember, at Bonneville Salt Flats and weren't his cars the Mobil Railton Specials? This suggests commercial involvement of a type that chaps like Campbell wouldn't have touched with a starting handle. There is a Museum of Speed (which I did not visit) at Pendine. On the famous sands I walked past a cone. There came the immediate and ill-natured blaring of a horn. A hundred yards off a man in the cab of a tractor made prohibitive gestures. A figure appeared on the balcony of a concrete, cube-shaped building among the dunes, where a red flag fluttered. The Ministry of Defence appropriated a large part of the sands during the War and, unsurprisingly, was disinclined to relinquish them in peace. Is it just me, or are there more and more places, previously accessible, from which the public is now excluded?
thought provoking and excruciating - angry all over again for the government's handling of the AIDS epidemic (and the Catholic church, and the unholiest - the evangelicals)
Bears are bigger, stronger, and faster, than you. And me. I know as I've met a number of bears growing up in my beloved temperate coastal rainforest of British Columbia on the West Coast of Canada. Particularly while walking the 15-20 minutes to the bus stop through forest paths and down a dirt road.
What we can be is really good at working together, at collaborating, at helping each other be so much more than any one person could be alone.
There is the myth of the 'self made man'. He was raised by family (or wolves, but then he still would have to thank the wolves), in a system with advantages of one degree or another.
Case in point, anytime you see someone who is really really doing well? They've had help. The fact is, we don't do any of this alone. Our very successes are built on the legacy and assistance of all who came before, and we build the ground for all who come after.
This is directly applicable to life, Google Plus (social media), interaction, and engagement. If you try to be the biggest, the strongest, the fastest, on your own merit, without acknowledging others and being part of the greater reality of cooperation, collaboration, and wondertastical mirth and awesomeness? You can stand on the side of the road and have your photo taken by all of the tourists driving by on the bus. While you eat fermented apples and stumble around in a semi-drunk state. And then end up on youtube.
Where am I going with this? See the tea below? I ran out of tea almost a month ago and my friend Julian Ortiz (the finest Argentinian photographer living in Washington DC that I know ;) ) sent a tea-laden care package to Halifax for me. Thanks Julian! This photo is from today, I'm drinking that tea right now.
My world is so much better (and tastier right now) for having met and interacted with Julian around our shared passions of photography and yerba mate. I love checking out his photos and get stoke and wonder from them!
There there's Gene Bowker who has a passion for photography, and trains!, and helping facilitate community here on G+ with his circle shares of photographers based on the letters of their first name, and the fact that they share their passion of photography here regularly!
Today he shared his 'Letter J' list
plus.google.com/111112809838472063992/posts/YTaon49ZSMc
In that list you'll find myself and Julian.
I'm kinda not a bit deal. I'm just a dude with a camera chasing the stoke and awesomeness of life, hoping to encourage others (and myself!) to more realize how wonderfully gifted and talented all of us are. We all have so much potential, so much wonder, inside of us, waiting and wanting and longing to jettison forth for world embetterments.
And that can be intimidating, and frightening, and 'oops I just peed a bit at the thought of it'. Which is how it is, for most all of us, at times. Especially if we think we have to be the biggest, the strongest, the fastest. But we don't. Not at everything, all at once, forevers.
The fact is that each and every one of you does many many many things better than me. I'm a 32 year old bachelor who used to teach outdoor education and lead multi-day trips into the wilderness. Do you know what this means? It means most of my cooking ends up in one pot and usually involves let's add trail mix and see what happens!. I would hazard a guess that most of you score higher on the 'Food Wizardy' index than I do. It could be said that you would kick my ass in that field. Heck, I once googled how long to boil and egg just to be sure. My friend's son in Hope BC is 8 and learning to play piano. I supervised his practice last time I was there (in late May) and he, asking me to help, couldn't believe that he played piano better than me. Well I've never taken a single lesson. He, at 8, could teach me.
We all know a lot of stuff! And we all know very little in other areas. And this is cool! Because a) we can't know it all, b) we won't know it all, c) we can help share our knowledge/experience/passion/skills with each other and that's fantastic! (Insert visual of Ewoks partying after the Death Star gets blown up here)
In summation, there is a world of stuff all of us can't do and don't know. There is a world of stuff we do know, do well, and can rock out. If you really want to know or do something, you can probably learn it. Rather than focus on what we don't know and see ourselves as lamers for it, realize that you know way more than me on lots of things, and can teach, share, learn, and rock out your unique person and path in freaking glorious ways today. Cause frankly, you're awesome. And I'm way better for knowing and engaging with you.
Because if two or three of us team up? That bear's got nothing on us ;)
Addendum
Kurt Smith just shared this circle of "Plussers that make you go hmmm" plus.google.com/107236832361013505349/posts/Zj5RFiBSFjU that he created from the suggestions of other people commenting on his original post seeking input. This is a collaborative process of life. And you don't have to be the best at being someone else, because frankly they're better at being them than we are at trying to be them. But no one else can be you, the way you can ;) So be the best you you can be by stripping away the layers of ego and fear. Find the heart and crux of your amazing awesomeness, vision, and voice. And rock that out like no one's business ;)
Some long-overdue street photography :-)
Taken in rain - I was hurrying to get my camera back under cover, but this was too good to miss
“There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.” – Douglas Adams
I guess we must have discovered it! Because for this year’s HYBYCOZO we are building something even more bizarre and sublime. Deep Thought, the centerpiece of this year’s construction zone, will take the form of a triambic icosahedron. A what?! A shape made of 60 gold filigree panels which will cast colorful shadows far and wide onto the playa. Within Deep Thought, a place for contemplation about life, the universe and everything, is where you will find yourself completely immersed in an interwoven patterns of geometry and light. On the outside, forming an arc, other golden polyhedrons will be placed to create a grounds for a mesmerizing cosmic zoo, community zone, and a collective zooooooom.
What do you think about during a normal day or week?
It's a lot.. isn't it?
I think about a lot of things, but I never really get anywhere with my thought at the end of the day. There are so many things that demand you attention and, for me, I can't pay atention to more than one thought at the time. Therefore it's mostely just chaos in my head.
The last weeks my head have been totally full. All things from work, school and love, they just fill it all up in there. Some times I just need a break.. If it's taking photos, playing games online with friend or spending my weekend at my grandparents, it's almost vital sometimes...
Explored! #255
I always thought that was a funny title for a track
[instrumental piece on en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zenyatta_Mondatta]
Anyway
Car left the road on Ferntree Gully Road
There was a mail box (made of brick) on the wall but is now about 40m behind me
Nikon D800, Nikkor 24mm, AI-s
Those who do not live in Scotland may be unaware that this YES sign indicates an affirmative response to the question "Should Scotland be an independent country?".
In a referendum to be held on 18 September 2014 this issue will be decided by those who are registered to vote in Scotland.
In my view, the underlying belief of those on the YES side is that it is right and proper for a nation to aspire to govern itself, that it may experience difficulties in doing so but in working through those difficulties it will develop the maturity required to hold its head high in the community of nations. The YES side believes that now is the time to "grasp the thistle".
The NO side appears to hold the view either (i) that a 'mature nation' status is not worth working for or (ii) that, while it might be desirable to become a mature nation, the inevitable difficulties could not be overcome.
I listened live to the 2 hours and 40 minutes of this parliamentary debate and thought that Mike Russell's ten minute winding-up speech (transcript below) characterised by its positive approach, exemplified that contrast with the negative approach of his opponents during that debate.
THE PARLIAMENT OF SCOTS (12 AUGUST 2014)
DEBATE ON THE ECONOMIC OPPORTUNITIES OF INDEPENDENCE
WINDING UP SPEECH FROM MIKE RUSSELL
Official report:-
The Deputy Presiding Officer:
Thank you. I call Michael Russell to wind up the debate. Cabinet secretary, you have until 5 o’clock.
16:49
The Cabinet Secretary for Education and Lifelong Learning (Michael Russell):
Let me give the chamber a revelation: I think that on the evidence of this afternoon’s debate there are no votes in this chamber that are up for grabs in the referendum and that it is pretty clear that there are no undecideds on these benches.
However, there might be some undecideds watching at home. I suspect that they might well have turned off by now, particularly after Jenny Marra’s speech, but if they are still watching I suggest to them that, if they are trying to come to a judgment on the basis of this debate—there are people in the gallery who might want to make such a judgment—they should do so on the basis of what has been the positive view and what has been the negative view.
Look at the positive view that all my colleagues in the chamber have expressed and at the endless, destructive negativity that we have heard from Labour, the Liberals and the Tories.
I will start with the clearest view of the currency issue. As ever, the First Minister got it right in the chamber last week. I will repeat his exact words. He said:
“It is our pound, and we are keeping it.”
There are no ifs and no buts. That is the guarantee. That is plan A to Z. For the benefit of those who are still trying to frighten people out of what is theirs—people such as Mr Henry, who asserted that Scots will not be able to buy food or go on holiday after independence, and Mr Fraser, who tellingly referred—
Hugh Henry:
Will the cabinet secretary take an intervention?
Michael Russell:
No, I will not. I am sorry; one contribution from Mr Henry in an afternoon is more than enough.
Mr Fraser referred to the currency belonging to someone else, which was very interesting. I will repeat what the First Minister said so that there can be no doubt. He said:
“It is our pound, and we are keeping it.”—[Official Report, 7 August 2014; c 33159.]
Hugh Henry:
On a point of order, Presiding Officer. Mr Russell has just made a statement in which he attributed words to me that I did not say. Is it in order for members to fabricate words that were not said during the debate and attribute them to other members? [Interruption.]
The Deputy Presiding Officer:
Order, please. What members say in their speeches is entirely up to them. It is not for me to decide what they should and should not say. However, the Official Report undoubtedly shows every word that has been said in the chamber.
Michael Russell:
I am sure that Mr Henry will reflect on that when he looks at what he has said about me and my writings. I am sure that he will think about that carefully. Mr Henry’s words speak for themselves, as does his depressing demeanour.
The debate has been one of great contrasts. I go back to positivity and negativity. My friend Mr Swinney talked about ambition, achievement, resources, potential and raising the eyes of Scotland to what can be achieved. In my area of special interest, he talked about the need for transformative childcare and the world-leading position of Scottish higher education. What was the result? [Interruption.]
The Deputy Presiding Officer:
Order, please.
Michael Russell:
The result was that, 10 minutes in, Mr Rennie gave the knee-jerk plan B its first outing. Mr Brown then leapt back in. Project fear was in there working hard.
The other side of the unionist coin then showed itself. It was quite stunning. Alex Johnstone chuntered on from a sedentary position about the fact that everything that was mentioned was a product of the wonderful union, but he was interrupted by Jenny Marra, who said that everything was the result of the failed SNP. There we have it: that is a contrast. Labour hates the SNP more than anybody else, and the Tories love the union more than anything else. Neither of those is a prescription for a safe future.
Believing that a Labour Government will remove weapons of mass destruction is also not a prescription for a safe future. There is no evidence for that whatsoever. How else are we to get rid of weapons of mass destruction, except by independence? That is the reality.
It was telling that, when Mr Swinney mentioned Trident and what we need to do, the reaction from Labour and the Tories and even from the sole Lib Dem who was there was derision. They want to put bombs before bairns and Trident before teachers. That is their shame.
Let me carry on.
Neil Bibby (West Scotland) (Lab):
Will the cabinet secretary take an intervention?
Michael Russell:
No, I will not take an intervention. I am sorry.
The reality of the debate was shown clearly. It was about that negative view. Nothing could be done. We had to ask what that was about. Maureen Watt got it 100 per cent right. She analysed the debate early on. The great fear that exists in project fear is the could-should-must progression. If any member on the Labour benches could admit that Scotland could be independent—I will come to Elaine Murray in a moment, as she did that momentarily—the whole fantasy will collapse.
The reason why it collapses is that that leads to the argument that Scotland should be independent, which is the argument that my colleagues made this afternoon. It goes a step further to the argument that Scotland must be independent.
The biggest illustration of that was given by Malcolm Chisholm. Yet again, I was saddened by a speech by Malcolm Chisholm. I have admiration and time for Malcolm Chisholm; he is laughing, but I do. I do not think that he and I differ very much in some of the things that we want to see, but here is the difference. [Interruption.]
The Presiding Officer (Tricia Marwick):
Order.
Michael Russell:
Labour members want to laugh at this, because it is beginning to strike home.
The difference is that I and my colleagues have a plan for how to achieve those things. We know how poverty can be eliminated in Scotland. We know—
Iain Gray:
Will the minister give way?
Michael Russell:
No—I want to finish my point.
I know that it is annoying to Iain Gray, but the truth of the matter is that it is possible to have a plan to change Scotland and to do those things. We can set out with those intentions and we can work hard to meet them, or we can—as Labour members would have us do—simply keep our fingers crossed that we get a Labour Government that could possibly pursue the things that they want to see in Scotland rather than the things that Ed Balls and Miliband want to see south of the border. I say to Malcolm Chisholm that that is not a plan: that is keeping your fingers crossed and putting party before principle.
Malcolm Chisholm:
The cabinet secretary may have a plan, but the whole point of all the Labour speeches has been to point out that it is not a plan that can be delivered without an economic foundation. Before he gives us any more claptrap about the negativity of Labour members, will he reflect on the fact that by far the biggest and most disgraceful scare of the referendum campaign is what the yes side is saying about the NHS? [Interruption.]
The Presiding Officer:
Order! Order!
Michael Russell:
How interesting. Mr Chisholm is being wildly applauded by Jackson Carlaw, who—
The Presiding Officer:
Sit down, Mr Russell.
That is quite enough. There is far too much heckling and far too much noise. The minister is speaking, so allow him to do so. This is a Parliament; it is not a public meeting or a hustings. There are people in Scotland who are listening to the debate. Make it worthy of them.
Michael Russell:
Why was Jackson Carlaw—the person who got so agitated about the issue of the NHS last week—applauding so much? Because we have hit the nail on the head. If the financial power lies outside Scotland, the decision on the priorities of Scotland and how to deliver those priorities will always lie outside Scotland, too. For every £100 by which expenditure is reduced south of the border through privatisation of the health service—privatisation that was started by Labour—£10 is lost from the Scottish budget.
Neil Findlay:
Will the cabinet secretary give way?
Michael Russell:
No.
For every £100 that is removed from public expenditure through privatisation of higher education south of the border, we lose £10. That is the reality. That is the nub of the debate. We can choose to make our decisions in Scotland, to take our responsibilities in Scotland and to have opportunities in Scotland, or we can always dance to someone else’s tune.
Malcolm Chisholm wants to see the progress in Scotland that I want to see. I repeat what I said earlier: the SNP has the plan to do that. It puts its confidence—[Interruption.] We can hear the Tories laughing; we can always hear the Tories laughing when the people of Scotland want to progress.
Here is the choice: we can say to the people of Scotland, “Take responsibility, and then you will have the opportunity to change this country for the better”; or we can tell them to listen to those who will not accept the reality and who will always keep their fingers crossed that England votes the same way that they do. Those voices will always disappoint and let down the people of Scotland. That has got to stop.
The lesson this afternoon is entirely clear: there is a jobs plan for an independent Scotland, there is a finance plan for an independent Scotland, there is a currency plan for an independent Scotland and there is a plan to make an independent Scotland the country that it could and should be. The people who stand in the way of that are this unholy alliance between Labour and the Tories.
The Presiding Officer:
You need to finish, cabinet secretary.
Michael Russell:
They are the people who have plenty of ambition for their political parties and none for their country. [Applause.]
The Presiding Officer:
Order.
That concludes the debate on the economic opportunities of independence.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SUNDAY TIMES - 21st September 2014
Michael Russell
In a sense I have been campaigning for independence across Scotland not just in the last four weeks but for forty years. But I don't think I have ever had such an emotional political experience as last Saturday standing in the Station Square in Oban listening to Dougie Maclean sing his anthem of Scottishness, Caledonia.
It didn't matter that someone had forgotten to bring an extension lead, so there was no power for the microphone. It was irrelevant that an early sea mist, now burning off, had prevented the First Minister from making a helicopter campaign stop and equally irrelevant was the stretch limo with a huge "NO thanks" logo tied round it ( one of the bizzarest sights of the campaign) that kept cruising past. Dougie sang and 250 people - young and old, from all parties but mostly none, sang along with a quiet intensity that brought tears to my eyes and to eyes of many others.
That event started a whole day of remarkable activities - a car cavalcade of more than sixty vehicles that wound its way across Mid Argyll with so many participants that a church hall in Lochgilphead had to be commandeered to feed them, a flash mob of dancers and musicians on a green beside the sea and finally a laser show lighting up a huge YES sign on the island of Kerrera in the bay facing the town.
This was politics, but not as I have known it. YES Scotland started out as an umbrella organisation and ended up as a mass movement . It's creativity and energy was replicated not just across my constituency - in Dunoon, in Campbeltown, in Rothesay, in Lochgoilhead, on Islay and on Mull - but across the whole of Scotland in a diverse, multi layered movement that demanded and will go on demanding not only attention but also real change.
Although Thursday night delivered a bitter blow to many of those who had invested so much of themselves in that movement I do not think it will go away. Indeed it must not go away. It's commitment, enthusiasm and vigour are needed as never before if Scotland is to move forward united.
It is this movement that can really test the will of politicians to deliver the new dispensation that the Westminster parties promised in the final days of the campaign and it is this movement that can press an agenda that is focussed on outcomes which benefit and empower real people not just the political classes.
As Alex Salmond said on Friday in his moving resignation statement, holding Westminster to account for the delivery of its new promises has to be done by the whole of Scotland and that process needs to be lead by citizens themselves. If it changes and benefits all the parts of the present UK so much the better as long as that not an excuse for endless delay.
I have undertaken more than sixty public meetings in Argyll & Bute over the past nine months. One of the biggest took place on Ardrishaig the night before the Dougie MacLean event at which I shared a platform with Professor Allan MacInnes and Lesley Riddoch, both longstanding friends. Lesley spoke about this new politics too and was given a standing ovation by the over capacity crowd jammed into a tiny church hall. That enthusiasm reflected growing demand for a different set of priorities and a changed way of doing things - bottom up not top down.
That is what independence is but it's core values - fairness, equity, hope, opportunity, equality, justice - go well beyond the the 1.6 million who chose that option. Lots of voters on both sides were sending a message about the need for those things that cannot now be ignored.
That is why the "faster, safer and better" change offered in the 3 UK leaders Daily Record "Vow" was in the end persuasive for so many. They disagreed on the means but not on the ends.
So that is also why the SNP as the Scottish Government has to be an active part of the process now being outlined by the UK Government. We must heed the urgings of those we have worked with and take part in a constructive, urgent and focussed process to decide on the range of powers required and accelerate their introduction whilst ensuring that they are devolved further into communities and made capable of adaptation to local need and local direction.
That will not be easy for anyone but it is the essential next step - a step demanded by Thursday's result and which can also act as a unifying mechanism. We can help make a new Team Scotland and learn from it though it will be a Team Scotland weakened when not led by Alex Salmond, to whom the whole country owes an enormous political debt.
I am undoubtedly still a nationalist and I want to see independence. But this referendum campaign, undertaken in an Indian summer of warm sunshine amongst the most beautiful scenery in the world, criss crossing sea lochs, sailing to islands and motoring amongst mountains, has taught me a great deal.
A passionate desire for a better country is shared by many of our fellow citizens, young and old inside and outside conventional politics. A different set of priorities and policies - some already introduced by an SNP Government over the past 7 years - is possible. Alienation from politics and society isn't inevitable because inspiration casts out indifference. Decisions are better when made with people, not for them.
I have had the great pleasure of an invigorating campaign in Dalmally and Dunoon, on Luing and Lismore, through Glendaruel (where I live) and Glen Barr and by the shores of Loch Etive and Loch Riddon. The conclusion of those journeys was not the one I hoped for a month ago when the Sunday Times asked me to contribute at the end of the campaign. But the people have spoken and when that happens politicians have to listen - wherever they are.
like colours of a rainbow
do my thoughts change.
like notes of a song does my heart.
outside iam giggling
inside a storm rafts...<3
ilford delta 400 in Kodak D-76 1+1 by 14min (20C)
red filter (marumi r3) while shooting for high contrast
Harry Wilson is a dear friend. We have had many adventures on the road. Here's one:
I have come to this cabin to sort my thoughts. Through the window I see huge white clouds tumbling over the buttes - the same weather as four nights ago, before the storm, before we lost Jimmy at the top of the hill. But that's getting ahead of myself.
Every year, spring or fall, sometimes both, Harry and I outfit Jimmy and head for the hills. Jimmy is a 1963 GMC one ton complete with a shack bolted to the frame. It's a home on wheels, with most of the comforts of a Winnebago, but that's where the similarity ends. Jimmy is powered by a straight block six banger that's never missed a beat; a big flywheel gives it the strength of an ox. The shack is as high, wide and long as the legal limit, constructed of two by fours and plywood, insulated, with tin sheeting over the roof. Hitched behind is the trike, part Triumph motorcycle and part VW beetle. We park the truck, call it home, and tour on the trike. The rig is an as-you-build-it, and Harry can repair most anything by the side of the road. He's changed brake lines, a muffler, and re-routed the wiring. A journey in Jimmy is like a poem to self-sufficiency.
This is the second time we've stayed in Dorothy. The first time was two years ago, and I've canoed past twice. This cabin once belonged to a homesteader named Arthur Peake, it's part of a small collection of historical artefacts gathered at the mouth of Circus Coulee. Dorothy lays below: four residences scattered about the town site; the blacksmith's shop and a grocery, windows boarded, porches rotted long ago; two churches, one United, the other Catholic, both derelict; an abandoned grain elevator; a large modern house and several ranch buildings about a half mile south, toward the river, home of Norm Pugh and his daughter, one-time queen of the Drumheller Rodeo.
Beside this cabin sits a community hall and a schoolhouse, joined by a common door and a hallway. Decorations still hang from the last time the buildings were used, for the Pugh family reunion. A sign over the entrance to the schoolhouse annex reads: Pughville Saloon. A quarter bottle of Lemon Hart rum sits on the bar - a murky, golden concoction full of dead flies. The piano still carries a tune.
Jimmy is parked in the community campsite, up against a hedge that runs the length of a two-acre parcel of land on the edge of town. Once owned by George T. Proudfoot, honorary mayor, the land was bequeathed to the town of Dorothy on condition it remain a campsite. Harry and I came to Dorothy to relax and play cribbage. Two friends, a deck of cards, and some stories. Even the coffee cup I drink from has a story. Harry picked it up in Georgia back when he was trucking. The nameplate from his old rig hangs by the door: Purple Hayes. (And, yes, the truck was made by the Hayes Company, and it was purple.) Harry is proud of those miles: "to the moon and back twice," he says; and then points out, "almost everything in this world once rode on a truck."
But his trucking days are over. Five years ago, he fell asleep at the wheel outside Carberry, Manitoba, hit the ditch and broke his back. It was an ignoble way to finish all those proud miles, and I tease him about it if he gets too far ahead in our card tournament. We laugh, but it's not funny.
The town site of Dorothy lays on bottom land in a bend of the Red Deer River, mostly badlands, sparse grasses and sage, as green now as they ever get. There's a bridge connecting the north-south road. There used to be a ferry. Norm Pugh tells how people would wait together on the bank and swap stories. Now there's only the sound of occasional traffic across the bridge. A stretch of the east-west road used to be the rail bed along which steam engines hauled loads of coal from the East Coulee mines; but all that remains of Dorothy are the relic buildings, small and weather-beaten; and the grain elevator, which can be seen from almost anywhere in the valley.
I first came through Dorothy many years ago, on a southern swing through the prairies with a friend. I barely remember the day, but I do remember noting the grain elevator. Years later, with the same friend and several members of my family, I canoed past Dorothy. We pulled to shore a few canyons downstream, at the mouth of Crawling Valley. My brother, David, erected his tent on top of a sandy knoll, and then sat by a small campfire watching the full moon lift over a near rise. It was only month since he'd tried to kill himself with whiskey and pills; but he seemed happy by his campfire under the moon, as if he'd finally shucked his demons. But he died soon after the canoe trip, hit by a car while crossing a street. So, two years ago, I came to Dorothy with Harry and canoed to that spot above the river to honour the memory of my brother.
Now there's an even deeper bond with this place, between Harry and I. Like brothers, we've returned. Strange how a place not home gets into the blood. Sitting in Jimmy, playing our 40th game of cribbage, catching up on our lives - the cards and the game board become like talismans that we touch to waken our memories. The game board is placed in the centre of the table, the cards are dealt over it, and the tales begin. Were runes ever cast more purposefully? So, here's another one for the memory-bank, a story to tell our grandchildren - concerning a dark tower, a dream, and an ordeal.
Our first evening in Dorothy was one of scattered clouds, warm but windy. After dinner and a few games of cards we walked the road to the elevator. There was no moon and the stars shone in a wide, clearing sky. The elevator rose, a form dominating the landscape, taller and taller as we approached. Dorothy's only two streetlights, about 60 yards away, partly illuminated the back and one side, but the wall facing the road was hollow black. We imagined a giant head and shoulders taking shape in that blackness, and we joked a bit about how sinister the elevator appeared. Harry dubbed it the grain reaper, and we agreed that neither of us would want to spend a night inside. The elevator struck some ancient chord in each of us: like two peasants standing beneath a medieval lord's castle. We walked away, uneasy, back to Jimmy, and dealt another hand.
The next day I found myself staring at the grain elevator a lot. It appeared anything but sinister, a relic, barely standing. The wind rose all day and by evening a ridge of cloud shadowed the valley. The rain came at dark. Thunder cracked and rolled through the valley. It gave Jimmy a good jolt, violent enough to make us sit up and exclaim. Then we went back to our game and listened to the rain falling hard on the tin roof. Every so often thunder broke in the near distance. That night Harry had a dream: there was a violent storm and Jimmy shook so badly that the tool shed fell off the back of the truck. He mentioned the dream over cards in the morning, but we thought nothing of it. Who pays any attention to dreams these days? Rain continued through the morning, and we continued our tournament, Harry gaining ground, at least seven games ahead. We played until early afternoon, and then decided it was time to go into Drumheller for supplies.
The roads were muddy, so we left the trike and took Jimmy to town - about 14 miles over slick clay and though water-filled potholes. Two steep grades, one up and one down. We were on the last leg of highway 573, where it meets highway 10, cruising in fourth over the crest of the hill. Harry looked at me and asked if I remembered that time when the brakes failed. "How'd you like it if they went right here?" And they did. Just like that. He rammed the pedal to the floor three times. "Holy shit," he blurted. "I'm not kidding. We haven't got any brakes." I looked up from rolling a cigarette and realized that he wasn't joking.
Harry found third gear and the truck howled. He hugged the first steep corner along the railing, in hopes that the thick mud might slow the truck. But his eyes were searching far down the hill for a place to ditch. Jimmy swerved towards the bank and bogged a bit in the soft shoulder. Harry slammed the gearshift into second, and then quickly into first. Jimmy screamed. But finally came to a halt at the last bend before the highway. All the way down, I'd been rolling a cigarette - bad for the health but in this case certainly an optimistic act. I lit the damn thing and we stared at each other for a long time, taking deep breaths and shaking our heads.
Harry drove carefully into Drumheller, at least as carefully as one can drive with no brakes. Our problem turned out to be the same brake line that we'd fixed previously: the newest one on the truck, cracked at the flange where it met the nipple on the wheel. A mechanic re-flanged it and Harry replaced the line. Sounds easy, but the road was running with water, it was cold, and Harry had to change clothes three times. We mailed our letters, went to a bank machine, bought some grub - including $27 worth of sweets, nachos and potato chips - and then we headed back to Dorothy. On the way, Harry told me about how, whenever he screwed up or did something daring, his grandfather would start a reprimand with, "Mein Got im Himmel". That night Harry wore his grandfather's sweater.
I've been replaying the events for a couple days, and the only thing I'm sure of is that I'll never be the same. I don't know anyone but Harry who could have stopped Jimmy from crashing over the steep bank, or careening across the highway. And that makes our friendship deeper. He's back at the truck ready to play another round of cards. We'll face each other across the crib board and play until we can't play anymore. For years to come, we'll make jokes about escaping from the grain reaper. And every time we climb into the shack, we'll pat the long scrape on the side panel, where Jimmy touched the railing. We'll laugh, but it's not funny.