tuesday evening bells

it did not escape me that this .... metamorphosis my spirit appears to be moving toward ... commenced around the beginning of lent. it did not escape me. nor did it escape me that, mere moments after i arrived in the park, and took my seat on the concrete overlooking the pond .... that the cathedral bells began joyously chanting. chanting a vibrant light into the descending darkness. this did not escape me. each time i step out of the building, the first thing i see is the cathedral, and our lady perched up there, near the bell tower. i listen to the bells ... contemplate them. as though vessels that carry the our lady's sentiment ... wisdom ... to the four corners. one only need to reach out and grab a tendril ... savour a rich morsel ... of this energy.

and so i sat, as night unfurled its petals before my tired eyes. and i watched wilbur the goose (read about him here ... and here gracefully contort his neck. i stared deep into the black of his lovely swan-like neck. as i watched its thick sheen dance onto itself it made me think of a thick, plush, black velvet rope. the feathers of his dorsum glittered faintly, as though he'd mucked about in gold leaf and got most of it, not quite all of it off. the stippled brindle of each individual feather i found mezmerizing. as he flared his wings to jump into the pond, i held my breath. and then he gently floated away. sort of like a paper boat floats - effortlessly.

[still planning a "silver harbour - pt 2" post ... stay tuned]