I had spent a very brief visit with my family in Toronto last summer after a four-day retreat. I always look forward to the long ride returning home to Montreal. It gives me time to adjust to the change of places and reminisce of things I did, people I saw and the life I once had here. I had time to think of my new personal mantra I was given which I could practice for over four hours and how much a part of my heart is still in this city I once called home.
Settling by the window, I allowed the train to rock me like a lullaby…chug chug chug…eyes focused on the city we are crossing, up above on elevated tracks…I am on top of the world and once we are further out, buildings become scarce. Kilometres of meadows, farms and the occasional crossings in smaller villages flash by…my eyes begin to feel so very heavy. I am sitting on the opposite side I usually sit for Lake Ontario is on the other side. I will be noticing a different view on this trip.
I see fields and fields of tall grass as it is time for the first harvest of hay. As we sped by I saw stacked bales of hay each farmer displaying his own mark…some tight round bales, some bales shaped like huge barrels and some square blocks. From the train they looked like mounds of hay or straw plants or shrubs.
The loud echo of the train’s whistle at some crossings roused me and I admired the sky changing colours as the sun began to set…the man across from me gave in to the lullaby but I am still like a little child fighting sleep always, in the event I just might miss something.
rocking on steel rods
fields flashing on fast-forward
a man snores
© Tournesol ’14
Carpe Diem Ghost Writer, Hamish Gunn has asked us to write a Kikobun; this is writing about about a journey, or part of a journey or wander. The idea of it being about wandering and observing is very relevant.