It's a rainy afternoon; close to dinner time. However, at the moment, although I'm not hungry, I feel like writing and since I have a powerful thirst for a great tasting beer; that's what I'm doing; writing a blog and sipping a Moosehead, Pale Ale, New Brunswick's finest. Now, how lucky am I to have these simple luxuries and in such a peaceful and serene place as Golden Unicorn Farm, which is situated on 50 acres at the base of Green Mountain; one might say I'm having a Green Mountain high; just relaxing to some comfortable classical music wafting through the studio and enjoying my solitude. It's kind of odd, when I think back through my life, how solitary I've been, even with two wives, six kids and I've lost count of the girlfriends that I loved as well.
The wind is blowing steadily, often with violent gusts and as I watch the harmonious swaying of the trees growing all the way up the side of Green Mountain, the lights sometimes flickering and threatening to go out, like they did last night, while I was sleeping all alone; oblivious to the rain smacking the widow pane just above my head, I am in awe of Nature's freedom and the simple wonders of this planet Earth, which I call home and love and cherish so much. If I could have a wish; peace is not high on my list; there's nothing wrong with a good healthy war to kill off a great many men and keep the population under control. I also suspect, if women had rights equivalent to the men, the population wouldn't be at such an extreme number and the world wouldn't be in as much trouble either.
Ah ha, just what I was worried about, the pesky wind blew out a transformer or knocked a power line down because the power went out for a couple of hours. My lackadaisical mellow thoughts and philosophical pandering somehow have lost their way and as I sit, sipping another Moosehead, I fear the pattern that was shaping up in my mind is now misplaced. It doesn't take much any more to sidetrack me; unless I have an immediate goal that needs fulfilling, I'm apt to meander off like a gentle stream and flow to another source of inspiration.
My wife Sarah is somewhere between here and Halifax with her daughter Jessica, who is now recovering from surgery. Her last Internet message was that she would be taking it slow and easy because of the rain and to prevent Jessica from feeling anymore pain than necessary. At this point of the day, I'm hoping she is not more than a couple of hours away and reaches home before it gets dark. On the narrow, curvy road from the highway to home can be a difficult drive especially if it is during a torrential downpour and a moose decides to cross the road just as the car is coming around a sharp corner. They are huge and very difficult to see; it's unbelievable how quickly they disappear into the forest after crossing the road, even on the brightest sunlit days.
The past winter was very harsh, some of the people I know who tend bee hives, lost their bees. One never thinks too much about bees, especially their usefulness. Being stung by a bee is our highest priority but what I recently learned; the bees are in desperate times; their numbers have dropped dramatically. Scientists say that if the bees disappear, within four years after their disappearance, mankind will join them in their extinction. Extreme winter conditions have always been hard on the bee population but since the crazed use of toxic repellents and the general world weather conditions taking a major turn for the worse; there is no doubt that we humans are in trouble as well. When our so called world leaders start pleading for ecology rather than economy; we will be in real trouble, but unfortunately, it will be too late to recover. Like David Suzuki says, the world is like a car heading for a brick wall and we're all arguing about where we want to sit.
My second Moosehead Pale Ale is down to the last swallow, and although there is room enough inside me for another and I have considered doing so, I think, like writing this blog, I'll just down the last swallow and call it a day - cheers, eh!
No comments:
Post a Comment