Author Archives: blaak sheep

It’s an early morning. The sun gracefully lays grey shadows on my living room floor and creates softened circles and squares of light as it shines through the evergreens outside my window. I hear the melodic honking of geese in the distance and am reminded of the beauty of the world around me. All I can do in these times of despair is remember the earth, the birds, the trees and the buzz of life that is not human. Life carries on each day; let’s make this moment our time to glow. Rather than cast doubts, reach out not with hands but kind words and gestures. These times can be in our control if we choose to not let the chaos rule our minds. Be present, enjoy the beings that are alive and vibrant around us. One breath, one blink at a time. Be grateful for the food you do have, savour each bite as if it were your last, and treasure each memory created as we turn inwards. These are fragile days; let’s reflect the strength we seek from our leaders onto one another and stand together in our hearts and minds. #itsthelittlethings

There is a wall of stringed lights hanging over an entire balcony in an apartment tower across the way, behind a gathering of cedar trees nestled around my home. They are bright, flashy, and when I sit on my balcony, I find myself always staring at them, drawn to their white glow and movement. They bother me sometimes, and I think to myself, “Who would want a barrage of lights glaring back at them all the time?” But late at night, when I’m in the bedroom, the view from the window is pitch black, the trees’ silhouettes lumped into one obscure mass. And I can see inklings of those lights through the feathered branches, like clustered fireflies dancing on a summer night. Seeing lights like that through the darkness gives me hope, and for that, I am grateful. #itsthelittlethings

I keep reading this poem, over and over. It caresses my soul and puts vivid images in my mind. Mary Oliver, you are my inspiration… I had the line from the song, My Favourite Things: “… wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings,” going through my head. It’s my favourite line from the song, so I did Google search for imagery, and her poem was the first thing that came up. How fitting. Thank you for this day.

I rouse often, beginning with short bouts of restless sleep disturbed by vivid dreams.
Then at last, I am awake, set free from the turbulence of my mind.
I greet the darkness, the silence, the peace … everyone nestled in their beds.
I hear their slow, tranquil breaths — the sound of sleep’s mercy.
The cat meets me as I rise; he perches on the chair’s arm rest.
He looks out the window, beyond the sense of time, and we search for slumber against the light of the screen and stars.
As the clock approaches daylight, a single bird’s cry pierces the air.
Morning is breaking but my spirit is not.
Although sleep has left me alone, the world surrounds me with grace and beauty.
The dark sky softens to a grey haze, then a light blue…
Possibilities surface with the glow of the sinking moon.
As I witness this transition,
I close my eyes.

I am always grateful and feel a lump of sadness in my throat as I watch Remembrance Day videos and listen to the recitations of In Flanders Fields. But today my thoughts are distracted by someone else, someone who I do not know.

Last night I heard what sounded like a car backfiring really close to my building. I was sleeping and the sound jolted me awake. I fell back to sleep and thought nothing of it. Then I heard loud voices outside, got up and went to the balcony. I heard a lady yelling near the high rise behind our building, “Are you okay?” It was dark and I couldn’t see anything. Again, I shrugged it off.

A few minutes later I heard sirens and saw flashing lights in the parking lot in front of the high rise. I couldn’t see through the trees, so I crouched down to peek through a space between them. I saw a firefighter performing CPR on a lifeless body. Then an ambulance arrived and blocked my view. The police were scurrying around, putting up yellow tape and asking bystanders questions.

The ambulance stayed for a really long time. Then it pulled away to reveal a blanket covered mound on the bloodless asphalt. Whatever happened resulted in the death of who I am assuming is a man, from what I could see when they raised the blanket to search the body. The police were asking people who were looking over their balconies to go inside their apartments.

Then the firetruck left and the body stayed there for what seemed to be the longest time. The coldness of the air and somberness of the moment beckoned me to go back inside. I don’t know what happened but judging from the timeline of police presence and lack of blood, there was no foul play involved. I’m guessing the car backfired, and literally frightened him to death, causing him a heart attack. I checked Google and there was no mention of anything on the local news channels. This morning the area is cleaned up and peaceful, as if nothing happened, and I imagine the shock felt and tears shed by his family members. I mourn the loss of this man, who probably had no idea he would die yesterday morning when he woke up. 

Last night was just another day for the firemen, paramedics and police officers. Another death, another dollar. They probably shrug this off, desensitized to the imminent pandemonium. Or maybe they aren’t, I don’t know how they cope. But seeing the cold face of death on a stranger strikes up thoughts of disbelief and wonder. I want to know what happened. Not only that, but I feel sad at the thought of someone so young unexpectedly losing his life yesterday. 

Imagine this one incident in the hundreds and thousands, as in the battles of yesteryear and even today.

I cannot wrap my head around it all or make sense of it right now. All I can do is mourn and be grateful to those who willingly sacrifice themselves every day, whether it be on the front lines in a foreign country, keeping the peace in unsettled countries, or braving the streets of our own country.

Let’s be as still as the morning air and remember.