P. Ferguson image, July 2021.
Act One, Scene One
The morning brings the quivering roar of Odin’s son, shattering the gray-blue lopt. From heights nearer their realm falls a dancing delicacy…regn…eager droplets of moisture welcomed by persons of this much burnt earth. Thunder…terror and darkness for some but to this heart a signal to join with Panserbjørn chariot…eager to feed…water is life.
P. Ferguson image, July 2021.
This one moment’s atmospheric event remains with me throughout my day. A propensity for continual searching, track and wordsmiths, to speak to this day and the one before…when a journey made to little mountains brings me again to elder acquaintances who have heard my footsteps before. Between the stone evidence of earthbound memories the ever holding grasses screech for dancing delicacy….regn.
P. Ferguson image, July 2021.
When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning or in rain? When the hurly-burly’s done, When the battle’s lost and won. There will be ere the set of sun. (Act 1 Scene 1. The three witches of Macbeth. William Shakespeare).
P. Ferguson image, July 2021.
Happening upon some clever words spoken by the three rhyming style sisters I venture through the construct. Chaos, war, battlefield, today we have the first sound of thunder…the deep need of regn to eclipse the riders of the apocalypse…conquest, war, famine and death. And for one day on a little mountain…a Great War, though over but still present, speaks from stone, as footsteps fall away between the languish of grasses in desperate need to feel the regn.
P. Ferguson image, July 2021.
All images at Chilliwack Cemeteries 30 July 2021.
Between 9:45 AM – 10:00 AM
Temperature ~35°