Monday, March 21, 2005

Solitude and silence

Everything is dark around me. The deep navy of a winter's night. There isn't a breath of wind ar fat white flakes fall silently fto the ground. I tug my gloves on and walk slowly, my feet cruncing in the freshly fallen snow. Aside from my footsteps there is no sound. No traffic, no kids playing or dogs barking.

On a clear night, the moon would reflect off the snow, lighting up everything around me, but tonight there are no stars, no moon, no northern lights to light my way. Just me and the dark quiet of a prairie winter night.

Years ago, I wouldn't have been alone. But it wouoldn't have been a date with me. It would've been Lady, my sweet dog. Well, maybe she wouldn't have been with me either. She liked to run ahead in search of something to chase. Herds of antelope, the odd porcupine and , my favorite, skunks. I never knew what she'd chase out of the brush at me. Her tail waggin, tongue hanging out.

But tonight I crave the quiet solitude of my parent's farm. Sure, I know I'm not there. I'm watching the snow through my bedroom window. Instead of a dark prairire landscape, I have streetlights, fences, cars and a school.

Tomorrow morning, my alarm is going to go off at 6am again. And backto the office I go. Returning to endless lotus notes problems and my favorite...calendar problems. Buy a date book and deal with it people. Technology isn't perfect. It does scare me a bit that someone needs a daily reminder to do something...

But never fear, as a company, we spend millions on IT services. So people can access each other's calendars and date books online. Not because the pipeline actually needs these conveniences to run smoothly, but because our society runs on cute little features that really aren't worth the price of admission.

As I write this, Tigger is trying to "help" me. I actually wrote it initially on paper since the first time I tried to save it online, I got a server error and all my wonderful words of wisdome are lost. So out came the pen and paper. And a little grey and black furball determined he can write as well as I can.

I'm not sure what he'd do with the kind of solitude I'm craving right now. He's a horribly social little furball.

Me, however, I miss having that place I can go when life gets to be too much. My "happy place." A place that allows me to hide and just be me.I haven't had that kind of place since I lived on the farm. Maybe that's why a blog has replace the more creative efforts I used to produce.


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