The amazing and idyllic summer ends as hurricane Earl washes away the hot dry summer this past weekend. The air has become markedly cooler and drier and the students are returning to school, the tourists from "away", returning home. I remain.
Fishing for mackerel from the city wharf has been the best it has been for years, allowing me to fill a few buckets with the tough-fighting fish-freezing many, eating fresh fillets, and giving many away to friends at the two social clubs that I am a member of here.
Many new friends have appeared in my path as my relationship with my island Mary ended a few weeks ago in a final date that was a painful and embarrassing experience. We went to the last barbecue of the season at the yacht club. The meal was excellent and reasonable. But I finally lost patience with all the pettiness and jealousy, saying my good-byes without as much elegance that I had planned. In such a small town as Summerside, everyone knows the story. There are pros and cons, everyone has an opinion. Mary and I will see each other at the dances, but our emotional weekend liaisons have ended.
Many of my new friends are associated with fishing here in town, or friends of friends from the house parties of the summer. Most are younger. I find solace in that as I am more comfortable around a younger crowd. This is probably due to my days teaching and of course, all the years with my now disappeared former young wife.
Finally I feel normal physically and mentally. The heartache retreating and energies advancing after a period of the post-relationship blues and the obscure illness that nearly killed me in February.
I have finally purchased long-needed items such as a new television, radio equipment, and fishing tackle.
There has been much effort in the restoration of my truck, the last remaining vestige of a prior life and a distant universe. At this time, I expect to remain here for the foreseeable future as there is really no other place that I would rather be. The children are very busy as the school year begins and they both continue to work. It seems to me that neither of them had anything like a real summer vacation, at least as I knew them as a teenager. It saddens me, but we all stay in touch usually via facebook, which dominates social communication in the new age. Letters are gone and telephone calls are becoming rare and short as real human contact gives way to the lol and omg of our internet age. I am glad that I also "grew-up" in that world, comfortable with electronics as is the gift of my radio hobby and business computer experience over the last 30 years.
My trusty old digital camera died as it got wet on one of my innumerable treks to the beach. I purchased a new camera which is pretty amazing. Its functions are, it seems, a kin to flying the space shuttle.
The beach, new friends, new toys has made this the most fantastic summer in many years. Not that the pangs of heartache don't surface from time to time...they do. Hopefully I can venture off island before the snow flies-perhaps a fishing trip to Cape Breton of the Eastern shore of Nova Scotia. Maybe a return to Salmon Lake lodge will seal the breach and provide solid conclusion to my married years and allow me to finally complete the biography.
The sun is brightly illuminating the Indian Head lighthouse on the point as it rises behind me here. The view from my seaside home. The harbour looks tranquil this morning. Pink mist awakening in the dawn, foggy clouds struggling lift away and the patches of blue sky revealed. Soon it will be time to go fishing, move on into the weekend of parties, dances, and cooler, wetter weather.
Thus is my life on this day in September, 2010.
God himself Cries
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When love is true and lost the universe itself weeps
God himself cries when love is lost
Love is not contained
Galaxies weep when true love is lost
Nay, clu...
16 years ago
2 comments:
Hello Joe,
Another good read. I feel as though I'm right there on the Island with you, if not in person then in spirit. But isn't there so much more you could write?
Social clubs, younger friends, house parties: Why not tell us more of the story? One month sewn up into ten neat paragraphs seems skimpy to me. Was there not a single thing about Debbie's party worth writing about? And what of Dave's backyard barbecue, and Blues night at The Wing? The Regent reopening and your honour as first customer and what you got for your five bucks. (You ol' boozehound, you.)
Even I'm guessing much colour is begging to be painted of fishing off the small-town wharf: Some of those fellow fishers are real characters--and larger than life. Darryl, for one. And there are others.
I could go on and on but it's your life, not mine.
One other thing: You tell us about an "excellent and reasonable" meal, as you do about "the pettiness and jealousy." But you don't show us. You just tell us. Now why not show us, too?
And no, I'm not being nosy. But I am looking forward to reading more. A whole lot more.
Regards,
Huck
Thank you for that. My diary entries are usually short and to the point. I use these for future reference as material for the essays and short stories. To be honest, I have been in a bit of a block lately, as you may note that their aren't many entries. I say much more in my audio journals. Since this is a public forum the use of real names and colourful descriptions may not be wise. My friend Sandra took some offense at some earlier entries that discussed inbreeding, illiteracy and some of the poverty and ugliness that I felt that I had experienced. Since that time, I have kept these entries "journalistic" and less descriptive and prosaic than before. The final product nearly has to be "semi-fictional" as you have suggested as a collection of shorts. The human condition requires a delicate touch. I will however expand the scientific and natural observations. The romantic involvements and some of the ugliness is probably more interesting to the public, but it is not my intention to hurt anyones feelings (or my own) much more than I already have. Thanks Huck.
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