The Forest.

I looked at the entrance to the forest for a brief moment thinking that it has all grown over with bushel. Maybe things have truly changed around here, because many years ago I would come to this very same forest with neighbours, friends, and my brother. To do what kids do, play, explore, climb, and even engage in game after game of "manhunt". I rode my bike a little further and found a small narrow path leading into the forest. I jumped off and held onto the handle bars and walked down the dirt path. It was hardened from the millions of feet that have trampled before me, roots from trees would jut out from within the earth to create pseudo-steps for people to walk on, and small lifeless rocks hung out in no particular shape or fashion; they were simply just there.

I leaned my bike against the tree and slide my hat in the backwards position and took the picture. I wanted to capture the light in this particular photograph. How it would sparkle off a leaf on the tree. In the background I heard the laugh of a child. A girl child. I think playing with her father. I couldn't see anyone around me because of the trees, but the sound was so clear and crisp that it was the only sound I could hear in that moment. I wonder if I used to make that sound when I came here, I thought to myself. I must have.

Continuing down the path was taxing because of all the trees knocked over. They were probably dead and easy targets for young kids to push over. Of course on the ground are the usual beer bottles and condom wrappers. They slowly become part of the setting instead of some foreign object. I passed through the catwalk to the Grandview school and continued my journey. I was bored at home and wanted to give my buddy Jordan a surprise visit... plus I needed to get out of the house and get a work out.

I made my way through unknown streets in a general direction towards his house, passing through parks connected by wooden bridges over creeks. I thought about taking a picture of one of the creeks but to my surprise stood a man about my age. He looked like he was in a Zen moment looking at the creek that I didn't want to disturb it with the rumbling of my Polaroid camera. I never really experimented with taking pictures of people. They always seem to end up to be pictures of friends having a good time. I really enjoy looking at those Polaroid pictures afterwards, to see the smiles and the hugging. I remember when Jordan presented me with the question as to why pictures are so esthetically pleasing to look at. I guess the simple answer is that they remind us of being in a state of happiness. Who knows though right?

I got to Jordan’s house and he was of course surprised to see me because he just sent me a message over MSN. He invited me in for a bit so we walk upstairs where he is playing poker online. "Nelson is actually on his way over." He said.
"Oh really?" I said and looked downward to the desk. I picked up a small parchment of paper that read:

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. -Anatole France

Instinctively I looked on the back of the paper expecting more. I put it back down. Nelson walked up the stairs with a big smile on his face. He got a kick out of my oversized Polaroid Captiva SLR SE camera. At first he didn't want his picture taken but after seeing how monstrous it was he started to laugh and I took his photograph. I told them that I wanted head back to drop off my bike but to pop over later.

The sun was slowly setting in the distance and after my long bike ride home I turned onto my street. My neighbours’ kid was doing some tricks on his bike and so I pulled up right beside him as he did a jump off the lip of the curb at the edge of a driveway. I pulled my handlebars with all my strength and did a wheelie.

I think we both got a smile out of that one.

music to accompany the blog: Belle And Sebastian - Storytelling.