A Spring Ramble
April 30, 2009
First published in the Terrace Standard, April 29, 2009
I’m always amazed at how Terrace goes from cold to warm and from grey to green almost over night. I’m not the only one excited about the sunshine and white fluffy clouds reclaiming the leaden sky—the streets are alive with people jogging, walking, long boarding, and biking. Yay, for spring! Everyone has the same inclination as me—the desire to take a little spring ramble.
I love seeing the grass green-up, the trees (finally!) bud, and tenacious perennials bursting through the earth. I’m thrilled by the smell of sunshine starting to dry things out, getting rid of the oozing rotting smell that comes on the heels of the snow’s departure. I revel in the sounds of birds, and in the laughs and chatter of kids out biking around. And as I walk to nowhere specific, my thoughts ramble as much as I do.
My dogs pull hard on their leashes, not to be rude—they’re just so excited. There are so many smells to follow that they’re losing their minds. I wish I could smell what they find so fascinating—no, wait. I’ve seen some of the things that they think smell great. I have no desire to know what scintillating filth they’re going to track home. But I do find their enthusiasm endearing.
I wonder idly, What makes a piece of property valuable? I used to be sad that the mill was abandoned, then torn down and left as a concrete scar along the centre of town. No more—enthralled is a better descriptor of how I feel about it these days. Youth have claimed the massive space as an extreme sport zone/urban art gallery. The former? Well, my slightly neurotic nature says, “Yikes.” The latter? It’s brilliant. By turns angry and edgy, but predominantly funny, passionate, and whimsical.
I have favourites pieces—the shadow people, the funky fruit (there was a gorgeous pear last year facing out onto Kenney—now there’s another hidden from the road), and the laughing woman (I think she’s new-ish) in a mural that grows more complex and cooler every day. Last spring, I was so moved by the contemplative, long-haired woman staring out at a geometric city that I had to take her photo—and I’m glad I did, because now her face has been wrecked with green spray paint. I try not to be too upset, because I suppose that’s the nature of graffiti—it’s ever changing—but some of the work there defies that “g” word. It’s Art.
I admire the Canada flag that Save-On Foods displays. Is it just me, or is that flag not crazily beautiful? Somehow, even when there is no wind, the wind manages to ripple it perfectly. The red and white against the bright blue sky reminds me of how fortunate I am to be Canadian. Does everyone feel that way about his/her country?
My patriotism spirals into irritation—on the radio earlier, some political party (I remember which one, but I’m not naming names, because I don’t necessarily dislike them any more than any other) called BC a “have-not” province, and said they have plans to change that. Well, good for them, I guess. I know there are people struggling in BC—struggling in Terrace—but all I could think was, If we are the have nots, who the heck are the haves? Seriously, do our leaders look at the world around us at all? We may have improvements to make (absolutely and forever), but how can anyone living in BC—in Canada as a whole—not realize that calling us “have-nots” is ludicrous?
A truly shallow realization interrupts my inner-rant: I’m almost at the start of the millennium trail and I do adore Maple Walnut ice cream.
I really have no idea how politics and ice cream turn my mind to marriage and economic downturns, but there you have it: how my mind works. I suddenly recall an article I read on Yahoo! News about how fewer marriages break up during recessions. The quoted analyst was cynical, believing it was because people deemed divorce too expensive for such tough times. It’s sunny and I’m surrounded by people walking with their pets and friends and families, and I disagree. Maybe tough economies just remind us that money isn’t dependable and that economics don’t make you laugh or keep you company at night. It’s relationships that are worthy investments.
The dogs are slowing down and I am too—my mind turns to plans for my flowerbeds and my garden plot (or shall I say, my salad spot)—we’re almost home, but our spring ramblings have just begun.
