The sound of rain on the roof at night is my favourite sound in the world. It always reminds me of someone, along with seeing a full moon, feeling a crisp but still winter night, seeing a sunrise, noticing the stars persevering through the city haze. These are the things that reach out to me from nature. Beg me to acknowledge them, reconnect me to that world I was once so much a part of.
The person it reminds me of, is of that world too. The phases of the moon and the wheel of time turning her slow gears. Quietly, introspectively, her and I mark the seasons, the months, the sabbats. It is a personal reflection, but that you can share such an observation, silently, knowingly, with someone.. I'm blessed to have such a kindred spirit in my life.
I left work at 3pm today and walked home. I wanted to survey the damage along the opposite side if the river. Dad and I walked home along our side of the river bank on the day of the quake. We could see the swollen river breaching the banks across the road, getting as far as peoples front door steps. Everything I remember seeing that afternoon seems so surreal. I'm so fortunate that I didn't have to walk through town. To see bodies being hauled from the rubble as my brother did. To have my work and home deemed unsafe as my good friends did.
Anyway so I walked 6.3km home along the riverside. The scale of damage to homes and properties was remarkable. Whole houses on unnatural leans. Looking up a driveway and then there's a two foot escarpment in the middle of the drive. So many people had left that area. It's hard to see what the solution will be for those people. The land needs serious remediation before anyone could consider building there again... and who's to say these people would want to?
Anyway.. the sandman calls.
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