Thursday, December 2, 2010

Frost, Sheep, and Little Burning Boats

I’m stopping for a moment to reflect on who this blog is for. The snow is blowing outside my window and my room is a cell of warmth and light embedded in the huge winter night.

In order to see my computer screen I have reversed black and white. I type white letters on a black background (a blackground?), and like frost on a dark window they freeze into some kind of pattern. Is it a window, or is it a mirror? Can you look through the other side and see this, or is the shape forming simple doodle-art, myself entertaining myself?

Years ago I read about a blizzrd in southern England. Sheep were lost, but when the farmer went digging in the snow he found that the heat of their bodies had created bubbles in the snow, each sheep sleeping in a globe of ice. I wonder what they dreamed?

I have some friends who live by a river in southeastern British Columbia. On the night of their only child’s birthday they would go together to the river, the parents and the little girl. One by one they would set little boats on the river, each with a candle burning on it, one boat for each year of her life. Then they would watch the little flotilla travel bravely down the river, into what?

So maybe that’s what this blog is. Lighting candles, one at a time, and setting them on little boats to travel away into the darkness where you, I hope, are waiting by the shore the meet them. Or at least to wave as they pass by.

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