
“Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears”
– Fiddler on the Roof
(Sheldon Harnick / Lewis Bock Jerrold)
As I drove the highway to my childhood home, I did as I often do … I marvelled at the great big sky that seems to travel eternally to reach the horizon. Pulling off the highway, I just had to snap an imagine of the setting sun.
Born in that great big sky country in eastern Canada, currently living in the sea to sky mountainous region of the west. When I say the word home, there is never simply one definition. There is a constant confusion, a muddying of the waters (and this may have double meaning as well, with the mud of the Bay of Fundy in the east and the muddy/murky Fraser in the west).
But, it is in returning to the home of childhood, of the first twenty years, that the memories of the seasons of those early years flood my mind. It is as if there is a constant video reel playing in my mind of places, people and events. Core memories that sweep into my consciousness as I hear voices, drive by significant sites, or catch a whiff of the Atlantic’s salty breeze.
All of the feels of such recollections of the good, bad and ugly.
All swiftly falling, one season after another.
All laden with happiness and tears.
As I drove the highway away from my childhood home, I did as I often do … I marvelled at the great big sky, that seems to travel eternally to reach the horizon. Pulling off to the side, I just had to snap an image of the rising sun.
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