Musings

It whistles sometimes; the wind that is, it makes a great roaring, ferocity; it leaves you with such a great understanding as to how such a magnificent force touches our lives.

The romans and greeks were right about most large masses, energy bodies, or structures; they are Gods. They are the forces that we had no control of, and they govern our very cores. Our struggles were directly related to the elements, and when they were kind, be praised for it is a blessing. I can see how a God complex could be built from such elements.

Thinking back I remember the aftermaths of hurricanes approaching the eastern shores of Newfoundland. The hurricanes were downgraded to tropical storms, breath taking, shattering, one hundred and fifteen kilometer an hour winds raping the shores. The communities would shut down, the people all in side, no cars in sight, and the power struggle to stay on. I remember those times and smile.

Watching the ocean - which was my back yard - I see a great fight between two great Gods. Two elemental forces that only skim by each other, and tonight they are fighting a battle that will never cease to exist. The complex winds scourge the ocean, uplifting it into waves a few feet high, fishing boats in the distance rock and follow the trend of the sea; they stay afloat only for as long as the waves remain below their level, and they refute the water in their hulls.

Nepture faces Aquilo, Favonius, Auster, or Eurus, I'm not sure which ones, but he faces these wind Gods; they can't uproot him, they can't tear away parts of him, he is one liquid body, the essense cannot be broken. There are ways to fight the sea, but the winds are no match. Nepture has proven himself time and time again to be one of the most powerful Gods ever created, he was worshiped for a reason, and nights like this reminds us why this was the case.

The waves are crashing on the rocky shores, and my friend and I are gazing through the window of our low housing shelter. He’s so afraid of it all; he is standing there on his tippy toes in fear that this storm, this great force plummeting off of the house will break through.

All my life I wondered why would Nick be so afraid? It makes sense now, you know. He lived in a trailer, and his mother had the same fear. That fear is much more amplified when your shelter is a trailer that’s much more subjected to the storm.

I always ran out into it, well sometimes. My main romance was to run down to the shores, where everything was much more epic and stand against it all. Challenge the shores that are challenging the waters, that are fighting the winds. I wanted to stand against them all, and prove once and for all that I am more alive than anyone else right now in this moment in time.

It’s always been a pastime of ours; to storm watch is to witness something so incredibly foreign to our lives in the city. To see the land sway, the oceans curling, and the sky melting into this abysmal everything; it can’t be described. When you can't see the world, this is as far from isolation and absolute nothingness than you can get. This is where it all happens, in the bodies of these great environmental events. I understand them all now; the storm chasers, the climitologists, I get it, and I envy each and every one of them.

One night, I think after a hurricane devastated the coasts of Florida, it approached. It was a large mass that we could feel coming; it was a mass that changed the atmosphere, the density in a matter of minutes, and it came. The sky slowly starting building up this thick and dark grey matter. The light from the day, although moist, disappears right before your eyes.

You can always tell a big one, so much more power was behind it; it effected the outdoors with much more of a struggle, and you wonder if the trees will start cracking in half. If you want to compare the magnitude of this event just imagine yourself walking down the street with an umbrella; the wind would pull it from your grip or destory it's foundation in seconds.

The eye passed right over the house. All the fury and hardness stopped immediately, and I knew it was still around us; the thunder was crashing, in the distance there were the sounds of the storm, but right above us it was completely silent. We were all huddled together in the living room just looking up and wondering why? Why were we spared?

In a matter of seconds, the slow build up began again. The storm felt as if it were winding up, regaining the strength lost, and readying itself for another round. The siding of the house was hanging on for dear life, and the old “weather proofed” windows were letting out streams of cold, dampened air. I could feel the drafts sway through the more opened and worn parts of the protective window.

I have so many memories of it being night, looking through the back window of the house at that ocean. The Atlantic is one of them most beautiful sights you will ever experience. The vastness is only disrupted by the smaller islands scattered along the coastline. I have lost many a friend, cousin, and even uncle to that sea. It swallows them up whole, and they can’t fight, the more they resist the rough nights, the easy it is to be taken. The all have their graves below the ocean, it’s impossible to find the ones who go out trying to make a living illegally. It just takes them, and we remember, never to see their face again, even during their own funeral.

During the day it’s much the same, except now we can trace the currents and follow their paths into the unknown. I don’t fear swimming in it, or fear the currents, only so much as I respect that body of water. I appreciate how it came to be, and what it can do for us as humans. Although we forget what it can it, most only remember either what it did to us; the moratorium, the loss, the damnation many families were cast into. We blame that body of water more than the government facilities set up to scourge our land.

We remember that the sea caught our Irish and English ancestors and forced them into isolated and unforgiving lives. We remember our ancestors suffering from malnourishment, from conditions a dog or cat in the present day would be taken out of. Inhuman but they forged what came to be in present day Canada. They were the back bone, and their struggle has been forgotten.

I can only laugh at the first world problems we have to suffer out. We have no idea where we came from anymore. The ocean itself was our birth ground. We came from a small puddle of amino acids forming the first building blocks of life. The ocean helped to cultivate us all, and sprang us into a dynamic, evolutionary pattern.