Memories
I don't remember. I forget things so easily. I think it is because I see so many things, I can't hold everything in mind, even when I want to. To remember, I need something...a piece, a photo, a sound, a smell, a feeling.
During the cleaning out of the house, I came across one of the baskets of shells that I've collected over the years, and found among the scattered shells on the floor a black and white shell, very tiny. With that in hand, I could remember where it was from, when I found it, what I was thinking and feeling at the time. Even what I'd eaten and some of the other things about that particular trip.
This is how I am. When I went through the ruins of my room, I knew this was my memories I was going through. I made a conscious decision of what memories to keep and which to throw away.
Today I made new memories. Originally I had planned to take a few hours and hit up parliment for Earth Day. Warm, sunny day, lots of people. Fun, right?
Instead, it turns out my folks were going up to the cottage. It took some negotiations to switch their plans a bit so me and Andrew could come. We had to help get the water turned on, and some raking and heavy lifting (yeah, we didn't get all that shit done till 4:30)....But after that: freedom.
And it was worth it.
While the day was warm, the water I knew would be cold. Something, perhaps the fact that 99% of the lake was still covered in ice, told me that it would be cold.
But since when has that ever stopped me?
1) We took the Kayaks out, and paddled out in the few meters of open water that lined the shore. After a few failed attempts to ram the ice (we broke a few meters in, but could go no farther) we found a very interesting spot.
The ice in most places was about 5-10 centimeters thick. What we found was a place where the ice was still that deep....but it wasn't solid. Imagine your little finger. Now imagine you had a pile of them, all facing the same direction. Bundle them up like that. Now imagine it was like that in a lake around you.
It was like kayaking through a sea of silver needles. You would dig your paddle through the ice, and shove, and a spray of 8 cm long ice needles would erupt behind you. Like a pad of needles, you could take your hand and press it in. When you remove your hand, they bob back up, momentarily bulging above the surface then settling back in.
The sound of moving through it.....that's my memory.
2) We were headed in to the dock. Andrew managed to park on the old ladder side, I took the new ladder side and climbed out, securing my boat to the dock lightly and going over to help andrew out of his boat.
I had to jump back to mine and pull it up on deck. Without us noticing, about half the lake's ice had detached after our little....foray through the middle of it, and the strong winds had pushed it down. The 10 meters or so of open water near the shore was gone. Completely.
We got andrew out of his boat, and left both on the dock. I sat for over an hour, watching the pressures build in the ice as it strained to move east, the shoreline and docks we sat on to the north interfering.
As pressures built up, the ice would fracture. It was like tectonic plates, faultlines grinding and shifting, continents drifting over the course of an hour. I wish I had a time-lapse camera. Or any camera with us, for that matter. It was amazing.
By the time we left, half the lake was open water, and the ice that had occupied that region had drifted down into the bay, probably to melt in tomorrow's sun.
The grinding, the shifting.
The pressure and the release.
That's my memory.
During the cleaning out of the house, I came across one of the baskets of shells that I've collected over the years, and found among the scattered shells on the floor a black and white shell, very tiny. With that in hand, I could remember where it was from, when I found it, what I was thinking and feeling at the time. Even what I'd eaten and some of the other things about that particular trip.
This is how I am. When I went through the ruins of my room, I knew this was my memories I was going through. I made a conscious decision of what memories to keep and which to throw away.
Today I made new memories. Originally I had planned to take a few hours and hit up parliment for Earth Day. Warm, sunny day, lots of people. Fun, right?
Instead, it turns out my folks were going up to the cottage. It took some negotiations to switch their plans a bit so me and Andrew could come. We had to help get the water turned on, and some raking and heavy lifting (yeah, we didn't get all that shit done till 4:30)....But after that: freedom.
And it was worth it.
While the day was warm, the water I knew would be cold. Something, perhaps the fact that 99% of the lake was still covered in ice, told me that it would be cold.
But since when has that ever stopped me?
1) We took the Kayaks out, and paddled out in the few meters of open water that lined the shore. After a few failed attempts to ram the ice (we broke a few meters in, but could go no farther) we found a very interesting spot.
The ice in most places was about 5-10 centimeters thick. What we found was a place where the ice was still that deep....but it wasn't solid. Imagine your little finger. Now imagine you had a pile of them, all facing the same direction. Bundle them up like that. Now imagine it was like that in a lake around you.
It was like kayaking through a sea of silver needles. You would dig your paddle through the ice, and shove, and a spray of 8 cm long ice needles would erupt behind you. Like a pad of needles, you could take your hand and press it in. When you remove your hand, they bob back up, momentarily bulging above the surface then settling back in.
The sound of moving through it.....that's my memory.
2) We were headed in to the dock. Andrew managed to park on the old ladder side, I took the new ladder side and climbed out, securing my boat to the dock lightly and going over to help andrew out of his boat.
I had to jump back to mine and pull it up on deck. Without us noticing, about half the lake's ice had detached after our little....foray through the middle of it, and the strong winds had pushed it down. The 10 meters or so of open water near the shore was gone. Completely.
We got andrew out of his boat, and left both on the dock. I sat for over an hour, watching the pressures build in the ice as it strained to move east, the shoreline and docks we sat on to the north interfering.
As pressures built up, the ice would fracture. It was like tectonic plates, faultlines grinding and shifting, continents drifting over the course of an hour. I wish I had a time-lapse camera. Or any camera with us, for that matter. It was amazing.
By the time we left, half the lake was open water, and the ice that had occupied that region had drifted down into the bay, probably to melt in tomorrow's sun.
The grinding, the shifting.
The pressure and the release.
That's my memory.