My birthday falls on what is usually that part of the year where fall changes to winter, to bring out snowflakes, jackets and fur. Bright t-shirts would be long gone. It’s not a favorite time for most people. I am rubbing my eyes and gradually coming to the sad realization that it may not be June any more. The garden will be covered with a thin white layer, the grass would have long gone, and the trees are going to look bare. I can’t be outdoors as much as I would like to, in my favourite neighbourhood park, where my dear friends, the goose and the geese live. They too, would have gone. I will still be writing my science-fiction book, but indoor, not under the candle, but under an incandescent bulb. Amidst all the writing, this realization remains a shock. Book writing at its most heightened is, being in an altered state, and science-fiction writing is like living in a parallel world one moment in outer space and then at faster than light speed, back to this world. I am possessed, while writing my latest book, dancing with my imagination and flirting with words to give it a new meaning. My creative style is being tested, which could be viewed as excellent news, because it means I’m excited about writing better in the future. I will be huddled up near a fireplace with a dancing flame doing the Tango and soft music wafting through the air, I will become mesmerized with ideas and tales of a distant planet. Although it’s not as good as sitting under a tree and seeing the geese pass by, but it will do for this time of the year. Welcome the snow and the cold, the earth soil needs some rest too, from the crops, to allow the soil to rest, refresh and re-engineer itself, to prepare for the upcoming spring and summer harvest.
Blackbirds and Geese would by then, have gone too, from the park. There will be no birds, when my birthday arrives. I am saddened by the thought of this, but warmed up by the thought of my fireplace, the dancing flame and distilled spirits. The angry blackbird has finished nesting, laid its eggs, hatched them, raised its offsprings and flown away, leaving the tree with falling leaves. I understand from researchers that the UK Barnacle geese, a distant cousin to the Canadian geese, shifted their migratory route due to climate change. They shifted their route, on their journey from the UK to their breeding grounds on Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago. Our geese in the park do not have to worry about this. The Gulf Stream that warms most of Europe is turning cold, due to polar and glacier ice melting. In the Atlantic and Pacific oceans north of the equator, westerly winds cause the near surface waters to circulate in 2 large clockwise gyres- the Gulf Stream and the North Pacific stream. The Gulf Stream flows towards Europe, North Pacific stream flows to US, more to the west coast of California. The stream moving towards California is warm, for now. These currents move west due to the westerly winds near the North Pole. Our Earth spins west to east, westerly winds are just natural. Northern Europe seems to be getting the brunt of the colder Gulf Stream, as it lies in its direct path. The North Pacific stream touches Alaska and moves into California. This keeps Florida way down south relatively warmer, so our geese continue to fly to Florida to migrate during winter, for how long more, no one knows. All of the park trees will look sad and so will a few handful of brave people who try to take a morning walk, to defy winter. While humans do not migrate, the birds do, to warmer places. At times I wish I had wings to fly with them, to warmer lands, to write my book. A free flight, now wouldn’t that be nice! The park in winter will look very minimal, creating a perfect setting for minimalism – our winter gift. Winter is coming.
A wise old man told me to read a book by a very famous author that is very popular and being read by lots of other people. And if I did so, it might give me more chances of finding out how to write books that appeal to a larger section of society. I’m not going to read a book because it’s popular. I’m going to read a book because I think I might like it and enjoy it. It’s not the very famous author’s very famous status and the book’s great popularity that makes me resistant to reading the book; it is simply that the plot, the story and the book do not appeal to me. I do not write to become popular, I write because I want to share my imagination, kind of like, spell it out, for others to see, read and tune in, to my imagination. What’s good for me can be good for others too, what better way than give everybody an option – a book to read. I try to tell them – walk my path, see the lights and the sights I see, decide for yourself, and create your own new path. When a lot of people are taking about a book, it just means they are simply talking. I do not want to try very hard to belong, I know, I belong, no need to resist it, just let it be. Surrender to what life brings you. As they say, the universe sends only angels to us.
I like butterflies and think they’re victims to human collection habits. Whatever is beautiful and whatever is gentle, humans, want to cage it. This makes them forget that they are as beautiful as the butterfly is. They are simply not looking within, to see the beauty and hence the desire to imprison something else to remind them. A lot like looking at a mirror and saying “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful of them all.” Seriously!
When you’re hunting for a house, you soon start to realise the strange language of house listings as used by real humans. Extraordinary can become another way to say not on an estate and not identical to houses around. Open Plan is expanded to describe a house where there was once a door and now isn’t. A few other strange, without any feeling phrases are – Lock and Leave, Pets by negotiation only, or regret, no pets, with its wicked coma, suggests to me that there was never any regret at all. A building with so much of rules, looks like they are looking for cold hearted aliens, not human beings who are connected with family and pets. Where is the regret, I wonder?
My neighbor’s cat Paddle came in at 4am one morning in a very remorseful mood. I soon realized that the cause for this remorse was probably from the farm across the road. The farm recently got a lot of new animals and this is making Paddle very uncomfortable, because she is no longer the cutest in the neighborhood. I totally get this, she was not amped, and in a way she usually is. I am guessing no caffeine for her to fall back on. I showed empathy, sat down with her, treated her to a glass of fresh milk and stroked her long neck. Very soon Paddle was purring again, as I slowly drifted back to deep space, light years away planets and deep sleep.