Darn…
I just missed the E bus at Rive for Corsier Port. It was 21:30, and it was cold, although I was still basking in the warmth of my writing mate’s book launch at La Faim. As all evenings in Geneva, politics, although mixed with writing chatter, was prominent. One of the attendees worked in Jordan with the Palestinian refugees, and we talked about how he kept up his spirits working daily with devastating odds against him.
The G bus with the destination of Corsier Village sat at the curb, its motor running and more importantly, its heaters on…a glance at the schedule gave me a choice. I could wait in the cold for the next E bus that would drop me two minutes from the house or jump on the G and have a ten minute walk in the cold and dark, something that I don’t like to do at night, but be home before the next bus left Rive.
The G bus dropped me in the Village by the darkened Post and boulangerie. I started down the hill. Where the lake lay before me was a dark hole but across the lake a row of yellow lights glittered like altar candles all along the shoreline.
Half way home there is a vineyard on my left and an open field where people throw balls to their dogs during the day on my right.
Very seldom am I in a place so open. Trees, buildings press in almost everywhere I am. Looking up, I saw the black sky with gray, puffy clouds in eerie outlines going on indefinitely. I felt propelled through the universe, almost flying up, up, up leaving me dizzy with the sense of my own insignificance, with the insignificance of all of us on this tiny speck we call earth.
Only when a lone car passed by, did I begin to resume my walk down the hill, having been dropped back to earth.
A sense of overwhelming peace descended. Maybe if I were religious, I would say I was born again, but I am pagan and not even very spiritual. Instead I just felt grateful for all that I had and have the hope I won’t lose the perspective of those few minutes travelling through eternity that whatever significance there is in my life, I make it.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment