Tuesday, September 9, 2008

progress

It's a Tuesday night.

It feels like Fall. The nights are chillier and I'm often hauling my sweaters out of my closet. My toes are cold if I wear sandals and I'm turning the lights on in my living room earlier and earlier each night. Darkness descends around 8pm now. Gone are the northern long days of summer when the sun sets at around eleven.

Traffic is busy. Kids are back in school and the University area is always crowded. Even my friends without children -- they are caught up in the season. New night courses, fitness classes, September resolutions. A time of new beginnings. Everyone and everything is preoccupied. And even if we aren't starting something new - we're trying to finish what we can before the snow falls.

It will be soon.

But tonight, it rains. Drops splatter on the windshield as I make my way to kickboxing. No classes yet, just meeting some friends in the park to train. I hope. Maybe the rain will stop.

Turning on the heat, I stop at a traffic light and see it to the left of me. I almost missed it. I glance in my rearview mirror. The driver catches it too and is transfixed. I look ahead; the man in the Volvo glances back and forth between the traffic light and out his window. I look to the car beside me. Her head is tilted in admiration. She catches me looking at her and smiles at me.

Is she thinking the same thing as me?

Is she grateful? I am. I'm grateful to discover that when people see a rainbow, they still take the time to stop and look. And see. Even amidst all of this activity we call life.

We haven't lost all of our wonder. Yet.

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

There aren't the dramatic changes of the seasons where I live, but I was thinking yesterday about it makes me notice the more subtle reminders that change is in the air...the sun setting earlier, the feel and smell and look of the air, the shifting of blooms and the hint of the falling of leaves.

And I am grateful too that wonder isn't lost...that a rainbow, or a drop of rain, or a subtle shift in the smell of the air can stop you from the ordinary and the usual, even for a moment, as you just...notice, and perhaps even in one magical moment with someone else, share in the noticing with a silent understanding of remembrance.

Diane aka cameldiva said...

I was driving back to my base last night and saw rainbows too. There was a double rainbow and one was a mirror image colours of the other, although both curved in the same direction. I didn't know they did that.

And I *did* see the end of the rainbow. Usually, they are far off in the bush somewhere but yesterday, the end of the rainbow was a road sign that read " log truck mandatory wrapper check, up ahead". I was so tempted to stop and dig at the base of the sign.

Lydia said...

So beautiful, Honour. I think this is your most luminous piece yet!

Don't Feed The Pixies said...

I love the winter - there's something about the world in darkness - looking at the shadows and seeing the possibilities...and sunsets, always sunsets.

It's great when you have that shared moment with a stranger isn't it? it makes the world a warmer place to be

Anonymous said...

So....like...do you guys have particular exercises you practice in the park? Or do you spar and sometimes get a little rough. Perhaps both?

sukipoet said...

Lovely story Honor. I love the sense of impending winter, the clues of seasonal change. I get a kick out of learning you like kickboxing. What fun. And at the end, I am uplifted by your rainbow meeting. Thank you for your observing mind and articulate fingers.

michael.offworld said...

Nice illustration of our connections. They're always there, we just don't always notice them.

What do you think about stopping this piece at the phrase "And see."?

Don't Feed The Pixies said...

PS: Thanks for the updated link to your site

Roxanne said...

serenity - yes, sometimes i get tired of lugging out boots, parkas, and raking leaves, changing oil in my car - but i love the change of seasons. makes me not take things for granted ...

di - you should have dug! who knows what you would have found???

thanks lydia :)

DFTP - yes, that's exactly how I felt. Like the world wasn't such a bad place, after all.

clandestine - you've inspired me to write a piece on kickboxing. we do a bit of exercises, combinations etc. that we practice. then it's sparring. it was my first try at real sparring - where the hits weren't "planned" -- I called it the "No Mercy Fight Club", since my two more advanced students/friends were deciding to push me. It was GREAT. I learned things in sparring that I have never learned! And I have the bruises on my shins to prove it.

Suki - thank you. what a mix, eh? rainbows and kickboxing :) p.s. I like your new picture! (and new haircut?)

Michael - that's the point, isn't it? to stop and look. rainbows make us do that, i suppose. good point about ending it earlier. it ties nicely into your comment actually - we have to trust our readers to make the connections for us :)

michael.offworld said...

Honour! With all the changes, I can't find you. Send me a message at michael.offworldATgmail.com

Michael

Lynn Cohen said...

You do write beautifully Honour.
You drew me right in with the weather changes, measuring ours against yours...no fall here yet but knowing it is right around the next bend...then to the end
of the
rainbow.
The wonder of it all.
Ah!

And I thought it was a guy looking at YOU in admiration. ;-)

zb said...

thanks for describing this lovely moment, honour.
i love this time of year, it still gives me butterflies in my stomach...all those years of "first days"...and here i am again, another "first year" at school...turning a new leaf...no wonder i feel so alive when the cool wind returns.

Roxanne said...

Dear Lynn: I'm glad you enjoyed my journey with me :) a little journey that is ...

*mo - oh - good luck at "school"! I will have to catch up and see what your latest adventures are when I get back from holidays