Monday, 28 June 2010
It is all too good.
I am dreaming in the blackness of this summer night. I am thinking of the time we went to see the fireflies by the wooded stream on our bicycles one night, some years ago now. There is not any way to describe a thing like that, it is a thing that would almost make you explode into nothingness, to float away to nowhere for always, a thing like that. In Japan there are official viewing seasons for every treasured detail of nature, people go on trips across the country to view the leaves change in a city known for nice trees, in spring the 'cherry blossom front' is shown everyday with the weather report on the news, advancing north, up the country. Fireflies have their season too. And never have I seen so many as on that night... you could almost read by their light, there were so many, almost all of them pulsing on and off again in time, as one.
I am thinking of a place I have been without electricity for miles around, where the blackness came and sat pressed right up against my eye, almost, only for the stars that shone like cold bright white lanterns. So bright the trees were black silhouettes. All the girls from the orphanage pressed in, afraid there would be men lurking in the dark. Girls who lived inside a school with high brick walls on every side, safe inside with one cow and her calf. I said not to worry, we could fight any man, it would be thirty to one. It would be one to one they said, because they would run run run.
I am thinking of cool nights of over-hot days in Canada, so hot until just before dawn, and then the dew on the tall grasses and strange noises just outside our little clearing. That the sky would never lighten and we would freeze, we would be found by some one, and our whispering until the tired lovely morning.
So many nights running, pushing blindly through forests with what in the branches and what over that hill? Or a night that threatened rain curling in off the sea, and a silent cold swim as soon as the sky lightened, before the world woke up, a hare passing by on the road. A night we spent on a ship that sailed in a cloud, taking us from our little home of a year and a day. I am dreaming of all these nights, and all the nights that linger just outside of clouds like that one.