SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Sunday, Feb. 29, 2004 @ 4:51 pm
Fire II



The trip? It is over and I'm left with 167 pixelized moments and infinite memorized moments.

I hadn't intended this brief visit east to be a tryst. Maybe I had. Either way, in Toronto it became a challenge, a wall of ice to melt, a heart to add to my collection.

On the bus to Niagra Falls I let my leg lean against his. And my arm. We both fell asleep, into the collective warmth, and I later stole glances at his closed eyes and the factoried landscape outside.

We walked the boardwalks of the Toronto Islands, I gorged on the Group of Seven, and at dusk we began the drive to Montreal, sunset in the rearview mirror and powerlines draped across the horizon.

In Montreal I changed the course of our interactions with one short phrase, "I can rub your shoulders a little, if you'd like."

That was no accident, that offer. Calculated in so many ways. Timing, wording, risk level. Now I feel like the black widow, with my spun web, knowing he'd not see the gossamer threads of my master plan.

The next few days were spent with crepes and curd cheese, in the narrow streets of the old town and out among the red barns, silver silos and white fields of the frozen endless Quebec farmlands.

He changed, though, after we lost the clothing of our inhibitions. He became so hesitant, so inward-looking. I was making him think about something, and whatever it was tormented him. Me?

One night he said quietly to me, "Your eyes are like the sun, too intense to look into for too long." A while ago I would have given anything to be fire. Fire, fire, she's fire. This trip taught me that I can be fire, that I am fire.

To him, I am fire.



Frozen Niagra Falls




On the road to Montreal



Notre Dame by Night




Festival of Light in Montreal




The Essential Poutine a la Winston Churchill Pub




Rogue Squirrel near La Ronde




Frogs at the Biodome (haha of course we saw frogs in Montreal!)




The Biosphere




Fuzziness on the slopes of Mont St-Hilaire




Me in the passenger seat




Roots | Shoots