Reflection

There is a town in north Ontario

With dream comfort memory to spare

And in my mind I still need a place to go

All my changes were there.

Neil Young

My memories know only a wild freedom

On snowy winter nights I would often ride the snowmobile out to a place overlooking my hometown. It was fitting that this small snowmachine was called an "Elan", for it was during these nighttime runs, darting along winding trails as fast as the shadows receding from the headlight, that I would be filled with a pure and powerful sense of living, of an élan vital: a powerful creative force. This was also a sustaining force, seeing me through some of my most difficult moments. Standing upon the summit of my solitude, the glowing lights below -filtering through a million gently falling wonders- warmed and comforted my heart. I suppose such moments are purchased with great sums of money, or hastily lived during a weekend away. Such moments might be the point of life for some, the whole reason for such industriousness and labour, though I suspect that so much work is often rewarded by other things. I will never cease to be amazed by the commercialization of experience.

There are such places in my dreams... places I once haunted like a ghost. They contain no trace of me now, like a lake reflecting the flight of geese over its water. Once upon a time I flew over them.. now they fly over me.