Accident
- At June 28, 2010
- By Dian Day
- In Travelling
1
The side of the car has been ripped open. Still sitting upright in the back seat, a body is covered with what looks like an ordinary white sheet. That could have been us, someone says. In the front seat, the driver is being given oxygen. I think about taking someone for a drive and not bringing them home again. I think about how much more than air that driver will now always need.
Babies
- At June 22, 2010
- By Dian Day
- In Travelling
0
We find them by the side of the road and spend twenty minutes waiting. When their mother doesn’t appear, we try the cell phone to ask advice of Natural Resources, but there is no service in this foggy and hilly place. Are they orphaned, or lost, or merely delinquent?—there is no way of knowing. We have to drive to the next town before we get a signal. By the time we’re all back at this spot of highway, only our footprints and car tracks remain as evidence. There is of course is no sign of them except the terrible scent of uncertainty.
Rock Game
- At June 16, 2010
- By Dian Day
- In The Big Backyard
0
The dog plays a game with rocks and water. It is her favourite game, and involves the humans throwing endless stones—not too big and not too small—into the pond. She paws for them, swims for them, dives for them as if they were precious as pearls. She is as pleased as a lapidary when she lands them on the bank. It is impossible not to congratulate her.
Crazy with Green
- At June 14, 2010
- By Dian Day
- In The Big Backyard
0
In the clearing by the pond I am surprised by lupines, planted here by an unknown hand. In the winter we walked over this place as if it were barren ground; now the slope and run and dip of the land is covered in riotous green growth, already almost impossible to wade through. The plants, like us, making the most of the short summer.
Quarter Note
- At June 10, 2010
- By Dian Day
- In Writing
1
My daughter made me this notebook cover when I first started writing The Madrigal. It has been filled with several years’ worth of book notes and life notes. As the novel gets nearer completion, I go back and read, over and over, not wanting to miss an important note… And then I look at the cover again and it amazes me that it has taken until this moment to see that this is truly a notebook.
Blue
- At June 07, 2010
- By Dian Day
- In The Big Backyard
0
It has been raining hard for weeks. The ground is sodden, the million colours of green running rampant: wildflowers, weeds, brambles, ferns, leaves, needles. We walk in the rain, hoping the downpour will hold off for an hour longer. Instead, the clouds shift across our path, and for a few moments we are surprised by the existence of the colour blue.