My sister San is on one of those sweeping sojourns. Yesterday, she stopped by a house we lived in as a family forty-five years ago, 35 Mountain Avenue, in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. Seeing this picture she took reminded me it hovers ever still so present in my memory. The fragment which follows is from my book The Eight Leaves and it hints at things like the year’s total eclipse (my first), my beloved (first girl obsession, I can still see her) and how unrequited love and a world seemingly gone topsy-turvy, made me bury my heart.
excerpt from my book The Eight Leaves ~ Compelled by mysteries like darkness at noon or elusive blondes with skim milk white skin, I loosened a bolder from the stony wall lining our driveway one deep autumn, the fall of the 1971 eclipse, to instigate my own mystery. I could not catch my first love, a lithe girl who sat next to me in primary school and I could not understand how it would be night by day. In the shallow gap behind the rock, I placed the most precious thing I had, a treasure that I was sure would earn me a king’s ransom.