Migration

October 27, 2011 § 1 Comment

There’s defiance in the air, marked by optimistic short sleeves and even shorts as people jog by, racing backwards towards summer, trying to avoid the barometric reality that is closing in.

Like the moment between a sentencing and the act of reporting to jail, people sigh deeply, preparing for the worst, saying their last goodbyes to birds, warm breezes, and cold drinks. The watercolor landscapes of yellows, reds, and fading greens of fall are about to be white washed with a bleak winter canvas.

That last gasp of fall inspires me to open my window, to invite in a chilled, but fresh breeze that massages my face and fills my lungs with spirit. I put on “Nashville Skyline,” and dream of a Girl from the North Country, Dylan’s melody, and Johnny Cash’s baritone taking me to a bonfire long ago, and a girl I still remember. The kind of moment and spark that can’t be resuscitated through sterile facebook attempts to re-capture the past and ignore the future.

Walking with my father, his hair speeding towards grey as he contemplates a kind of winter, both figuratively, and literally. He’s not passively accepting the fleeting horizon here in the Midwest, he looks me in the eyes and says, “take me with you.” Doesn’t matter if its Kenya, Libya, Bangkok, wherever, his time is ticking and he’s not content to watch the clock from a kind of forced hibernation. “Take me with you,” he repeats, as he wills his balance to keep him moving forward on the path, trying to prove he can keep up with me. That he won’t slow me down.

As I look up at the fleeting light, it gives one last glimmer of life to fanciful clouds that slowly move through my imagination, like migrating whales. The curtain is going down a little earlier today. Time to make big plans for tomorrow. Time to draw up a map, an escape route rather, to the other side, where trees are turning the opposite way, the sun pushing forward not back, and eyes are opening to an early, irrepressible light.

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