A glorious day

Today is one of those glorious rare winter days here in Oslo--the sun is shining full-force, the sky is blue, the temperature is hovering just around freezing, the streets are clear and the sidewalks likewise. In other words, an outdoor day! It doesn't take more than this to convince me. Whenever the sun shines, I feel my motivation and energy bubbling under the surface, pushing me this way and that. It's never a problem to fill these kinds of days, the question is rather, what do I do first? It's not a question of what I should do, rather, of what I want to do. It's a privilege to be able to decide that in the peace of my own home, without having to worry about running off to work. One of the nice perks of being retired. 

On these kinds of days, I look forward to getting back to work in my garden. I look at my houseplants, and they are basking in the sun, much like cats and dogs do when the sun is streaming through the windows. You can just tell that the plants are loving the sunshine as much as I am. That does my heart good, and God knows my heart, actually many hearts in the world, need a lot more sunshine to lift us all out of the winter darkness. Is it any wonder that most people love the spring and summer months? Even the autumn months have their charm despite being a prelude to winter. I think of New York State in the autumn; the temperatures are often quite mild until November, and the humidity is much less than it is during the summer months, which makes life very pleasant.

It's not that I dislike winter, it's just that it's such a long season (November until mid-March if we're lucky). It's also a dark season, and it doesn't help that most of the days are gray, cloudy, and sometimes rainy. I actually look forward to snow, because it 'lightens' the environment. If you look out the window on a snowy evening, you'll see how bright it is outside. That helps. I know that winter is a season of rest for plants, animals and humans alike. Gardens need a growth pause; they need to recoup their energy losses and start anew. A lot is going on underground in a winter garden. Microbes, bacteria, fungi and other organisms in the soil transform the soil and make nutrients during the winter months that will then be available to the plants that come back to life in the spring. 

But back to today's wonderful longed-for sunshine! It's a wonderful, glorious day. I wish you all a lovely day, wherever you are in the world. 

A beautiful poem--Safely Home

This poem is considered to be a funeral poem and is often used for prayer cards. Jean sent it to me today and I'm posting it here so that all those who have lost loved ones can find comfort in the words. I don't know who the poet is, but the poem is a poignant reminder that our loved ones who have passed on made the journey safely to heaven and that they will be waiting for us when our time comes.

 

The lies we tell others and ourselves

I am currently watching The Lying Life of Adults series on Netflix, based on the book of the same name by Elena Ferrante. I read the book in 2021 and wrote a post about it (A New Yorker in Oslo: Elena Ferrante's The Lying Life of Adults (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). The Netflix series encompasses six episodes, and I've already seen four of them. Elena Ferrante has been involved in the writing of the script for the series, and you can always tell when she has had her hand in things. There is a certain identifying mark that raises the overall quality to very good (this series: The Lying Life of Adults (TV Series 2023– ) - IMDb) to superb (My Brilliant Friend on HBO: My Brilliant Friend (TV Series 2018– ) - IMDb ). The series was created by Edoardo De Angelis (every time I see his last name on the screen I have to smile since it is my last name as well, spelled the same way). His wife Pina Turco plays Nella, whose husband Andrea leaves her for Costanza, a family friend. But by extension, he leaves his teenage daughter Giovanna as well. The series is about Giovanna (very well-acted by Giordana Marengo) and her growing up amidst the turmoil around her: her parents' separation and divorce; her father's eventual remarriage to Costanza and his new home in Posillipo (an affluent area of Naples) on the Gulf of Naples; Giovanna's introduction to her aunt Vittoria (wonderfully-acted by Valeria Golino) and to the family of Enzo, Vittoria's now-deceased lover; her relationships with her two best friends, Angela and Ida, who just happen to be Costanza's daughters. But it is her relationship with Vittoria (Andrea's sister whom he cannot abide) that changes her life and moves her firmly into adulthood. 

Andrea, Nella, Costanza, Mariano (Costanza's ex-husband), and Vittoria all lie to others and to themselves. Andrea and Costanza have lived a lie for years by having an affair and keeping it secret. Nella has either refused to see the truth or has turned a blind eye to it; in any case, she continues to defend Andrea and to call him a good man. Vittoria initially seems to be the most honest of all the adults in Giovanna's life, but she too turns out to be a liar who tells herself and others (particularly Giovanna) that she loved only Enzo and has never been with another man since he died, but this is not true. Giovanna learns that she cannot trust very many people, which of course is the demarcation between childhood and adulthood. What do you do with that knowledge? What do you do when you find out that the adults in your life are no better at handling/navigating their lives than the teenagers they are trying to raise? What do you do when you find out that their lives are as miserable and chaotic as yours? 

The lies we tell others and ourselves, when others ask us how we are, how our lives are going. How many people really answer honestly? We do so with those few people we love and trust, with our closest friends. We know we can trust them to listen to us without judging us, without abandoning us. That is a rarity in a world that seeks to judge (and cancel) another immediately without knowing or being interested in the facts. Of course we can ask, what is the truth? Is your side of a story truer than mine? We all lie to ourselves to some extent; we do so in order to deal with each day. We tell ourselves that our spouses and children are better than those of others we know, but the reality is otherwise. All families have problems, perhaps the same types of problems but to varying degrees. All families have squabbles, some have real fights, and some are on the outs with other family members for entire lifetimes. We may not have much of a relationship with a sibling, but we say that he or she has a busy life and we talk to them when we can. A spouse may not be all that involved in the family life at home, and we make the same excuse--he or she has a demanding job that keeps him or her busy. Those who are workaholics know that they are overworking to avoid something else in their lives, perhaps an unhappy home life, and those who are diehard alcoholics, drug addicts and overeaters tell themselves that they have their addictions under control, that they can quit drinking, doing drugs, or overeating any time they want. But deep down inside, they know the truth; they can't quit overworking, drinking to excess, doing drugs, or overeating, not without help and a lot of motivation to change. Lying to ourselves, even just a little, helps to mitigate the intensity of our problems. And for most of us, it does; we get through each day without major calamities ensuing. But for those with serious problems, those problems just get worse. 

It might not be a good thing if we were always honest about our thoughts and feelings in relation to others. Little white lies help us survive in what could be awkward situations with loved ones. We do our best to be truthful, but sometimes you have to weigh the situation and ask yourself if others (or you yourself) can tolerate hearing the truth or the answers to the questions they've asked. I think of those I know with health problems; is it better for them to hear that their overall prognosis could be good if they do this or that, rather than dismal because of the type of illness they have or because of one's hereditary tendencies? Nobody wants to be told straight out that they are going to die in a few months or years. And if people are told that, they often want to consider themselves the outliers--those few who fall outside the norm. Can you blame people for thinking this way? I think we are hotwired to think this way to some degree, due to the idea of self-preservation and the instinct for survival. We lie to ourselves in the hope that it will turn out alright. And sometimes it does. 

To the Last Whale... / Critical Mass / Wind on the Water

This song by Crosby, Stills, and Nash got my attention from the first moment I heard it. I remember my reaction at the end of the song to hearing the whales 'talk'. It grabbed my heart and never let go. Beautiful and plaintive at the same time; the lyrics are also memorable and heartbreaking, especially when they sing 'it's not that we don't know, it's just that we don't want to care'. So true. The song makes you feel for the whales, it inspires empathy, and that's a good thing. We need more of that in music nowadays. Rest in peace, David Crosby. 

To the Last Whale... 

Over the years you have been hunted

By the men who throw harpoons

And in the long run he will kill you

Just to feed the pets we raise

Put the flowers in your vase

And make the lipstick for your face

Over the years you swam the ocean

Following feelings of your own

Now you are washed up on the shoreline

I can see your body lie

It's a shame you have to die

To put the shadow on our eye

Maybe we’ll go

Maybe we'll disappear

It's not that we don’t know

It's just that we don't want to care

Under the bridge

Over the foam

Wind on the water

Carry me home

Written By

David Crosby & Graham Nash

Rest in peace, Jim

Spring and Fall 

to a young child

Margaret, are you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

BY GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS

------------------------------------------------------------------

I post this today in memory of Jim (the brother of my dear friend Jean) who passed away from cancer today. It is the poem that made me acutely aware as a teenager of the reality of our mortality. Jim's life ended too soon, like many others I know who have died of cancer. He suffered a lot but now he is at peace. 

It is not true, as the poem says, that as we get older, we adopt a 'colder' attitude toward the reality of mortality and the death of loved ones. We may accept (albeit unwillingly) that we are mortal, but we grieve the loss of loved ones and the eventuality of our own passing. Hopkins acknowledges this further on in the poem when he says that 'you will weep and know why'. We do know why. A mystery, this life. Moments of true happiness and moments of intense sadness and grief. I lost my own brother almost eight years ago. I still remember the shock of that day and of hearing the news. I doubt I will ever forget it. His death and the subsequent family dramas changed my life in ways I still don't completely fathom. I just know that I loved my brother and I miss him a lot. I will miss seeing Jim as well when I visit NY--there was always a cheery hello, a smile and a conversation. He played in a rock band together with three of his sons, and they were quite good. I was sometimes able to join Jean and go to listen to them at a local pub. I know his sons will always remember that. 

Reflections on knowledge and love

I have reflected often on portions of this passage from 1 Corinthians 13:

If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.....

Also:

.....Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

We come to the eventual understanding that secular knowledge (not relating to the spiritual world) is infinite, that we will never learn all there is to learn. The pursuit of new and greater knowledge will be the task of each new generation. We have come very far since our early days on earth in terms of the accumulation of secular knowledge. History is full of the stories of vast empires, overwhelming defeats, plagues, holy wars and wars in general, colonization, slavery and renaissance periods that moved humankind forward in great strides. Over the many centuries, humankind has become more civilized. Technological advances just within the past thirty years have changed our lives forever--personal computers, cell phones, the digital age. Accumulated earthly knowledge is at our fingertips for the most part; we need only do online searches to find what we are looking for. That was not the case thirty years ago, a century ago, a millennium ago. We keep up with all the new changes and innovations. We have to, since we belong to this generation. 

What I mostly wonder about is the pursuit of secular knowledge. We are told as children that education is very important for getting the right kind of job or career. But education in and of itself is not knowledge. It is the impartment of knowledge, but it is up to each individual to receive and accept that knowledge. A degree in a specific subject does not necessarily imply that the recipient is knowledgeable; it merely states that the recipient has fulfilled the requirements for a particular degree. The person may have cheated or obtained the degree unethically. There is no guarantee that education will produce knowledgeable individuals. But generally speaking, it does to a point. However, that knowledge is limited. There are people with advanced degrees who can tell you everything you'd like to know about a very specialized subject. They have a wealth of limited secular knowledge that they can impart to others if others wish. But they cannot necessarily impart knowledge in other areas, and if they try to do so, they can be criticized for doing so. 

However, let us imagine that such people had learned all that it was possible to learn in this life. Do they eventually come to the realization that the accumulation of secular knowledge will never cease? As long as humankind continues to exist, knowledge will change, grow and evolve. Current secular knowledge will pass away in the sense that the possessor of that knowledge passes away, but secular knowledge in and of itself does not cease to exist. Future secular knowledge will build upon it, just that it has yet to be discovered. Secular knowledge is infinite in its scope, even though we cannot imagine what the future will bring. It will always be in front of humankind, an aim, a challenge. It's tiring in some respects to realize this. Perhaps it is at this point that individuals realize that the accumulation of more and more secular knowledge isn't of paramount importance. Letting go of the quest for the incessant accumulation of such knowledge may be the right path for many people who have realized that no matter how much they learn, it will never be enough. Their current knowledge will eventually become passé, it will pass away as will they. We learn as we grow older that we are replaceable and that we will be replaced. Others will be younger, smarter, better equipped for the new world that awaits. That is the way of the world. We don't think about this when we are young. And that is also the way of the world. 

We will never have perfect or total secular knowledge as humans; that would be an existence in a realm outside of earth's. Corinthians is not saying that there is something wrong with pursuing secular knowledge, just that we need to be aware of its transience. Spiritual knowledge and learning to love are of equal importance. I don't think secular knowledge and spiritual knowledge are mutually exclusive; they are connected. We need to learn how to love and to recognize the divine, and that requires the impartment of a body of knowledge having to do with both. We will never have perfect human love, just as we will never have perfect secular knowledge. But God's love will always be there, it never fails. It underlies all that we do in our human lives. We learn by doing, by practicing the commandments, but we also learn by reading spiritual literature. We learn by adopting a mindset open to the spiritual. There ought to be more emphasis on imparting this kind of knowledge in the world. There are parents who take on this task; they are spiritual guides or at least they ought to be, but not all parents can open the non-secular world of knowledge for their children because they are not aware of it themselves. It's often left to religious schooling to do that, e.g. Catholic schools. My parents were my first spiritual teachers, and I'm grateful for the knowledge they imparted to me. They did the best they could. I'm also grateful to Catholic grammar school for the same thing. 

A Flock Of Seagulls - I Ran (So Far Away) (Video)

Another great song from 1982......

Lyrics

I walk along the avenue

I never thought I’d meet a girl like you

Meet a girl like you

With auburn hair and tawny eyes

The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through

You hypnotize me through

And I ran

I ran so far away

I just ran

I ran all night and day

I couldn’t get away

A cloud appears above your head

A beam of light comes shining down on you

Shining down on you

The cloud is moving nearer still

Aurora Borealis comes in view

Aurora comes in view

And I ran

I ran so far away

I just ran

I ran all night and day

I couldn’t get away

Reached out a hand to touch your face

You’re slowly disappearing from my view

Disappearing from my view

Reached out a hand to try again

I’m floating in a beam of light with you

A beam of light with you

And I ran

I ran so far away

I just ran

I ran all night and day

And I ran

I ran so far away

I just ran

I couldn’t get away

Song name: I Ran (So Far Away)

Artist: A Flock of Seagulls

Year: 1982

Original text by Alistair M. Score, Francis Reynolds Maudsley, Michael Score, Paul Reynolds

Original text copyright Universal Music Publishing Group

Modern English - I Melt With You (Official Video)

One of my favorite songs from 1982......

Lyrics

Moving forwards, using all my breath

Making love to you was never second best

I saw the world thrashing all around your face

Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace

I'll stop the world and melt with you

You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time

There's nothing you and I won't do

I'll stop the world and melt with you

Dream of better lives the kind which never hate

(You should see why)

Trapped in the state of imaginary grace

(You should know better)

I made a pilgrimage to save this humans race

(You should see why)

Never comprehending the race had long gone by

I'll stop the world and melt with you

(Let's stop the world)

You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time

(Let's stop the world)

There's nothing you and I won't do

(Let's stop the world)

I'll stop the world and melt with you

The future's open wide

I'll stop the world and melt with you

(Let's stop the world)

I've seen some changes but it's getting better all the time

(Let's stop the world)

There's nothing you and I won't do

(Let's stop the world)

I'll stop the world and melt with you

The future's open wide

Hmmm hmmm hmmm

Hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm

Hmmm hmmm hmmm

Hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm

I'll stop the world and melt with you

(Let's stop the world)

You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time

(Let's stop the world)

There's nothing you and I won't do

(Let's stop the world)

I'll stop the world and melt with you

(Let's stop the world)

I'll stop the world and melt with you

(Let's stop the world)

I'll stop the world and melt with you

(Let's stop the world)

I'll stop the world and melt with you

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Gary Frances McDowell / Michael Frances Conroy / Richard Ian Brown / Robert James Grey / Stephen James Walker

I Melt With You lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

A Town and A Valley, now in paperback

Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky

The Soviet-Russian Strugatsky brothers Arkady and Boris wrote a brilliant book in 1971 that I have finally gotten around to reading--Roadside Picnic. I took the long way around to arriving at this book; as I've written in previous posts, I first watched the film Annihilation, which led to the film Stalker, which led to my reading the Southern Reach book trilogy (Annihilation, Authority, Acceptance). Book I-Annihilation--is the book on which the film Annihilation is based. After reading the trilogy, I read Roadside Picnic on which Stalker is based. I love when one book or film suggests another; that is the moment when everything around me feels expansive, limitless, full of possibility. A wonderful feeling of freedom, the freedom to move in any direction and to explore boundlessly......

I gave Roadside Picnic five stars on Goodreads, and wrote a review of it that I am posting here: 

The Strugatsky brothers' sci-fi novel draws you into the world of the Zone and the Stalkers immediately. An alien visit to Earth (was it an alien roadside picnic) results in their leaving behind litter and artifacts that are localized to specific areas called Zones. One of these is located in the fictional town of Harmont in an unnamed English-speaking country. The Zone is not a safe area for human beings, rather, it is a minefield of dangers lurking almost at every turn. Few people who venture into the Zone return alive. But there are some few who do--the Stalkers. Redrick Schuhart is a Stalker, a man who leads others into the Zone so that they can explore/ retrieve items left by the aliens, as there is a black market for such items. He is married to Guta, and they have a little girl (nicknamed Monkey) who was born with a mutation (excessive body hair, almost like fur) like most of the children of stalkers. Normal life in Harmont is interspersed with descriptions of the Zone and the oddities/dangers that exist within it: hell slime, spacells, bug traps, the meatgrinder, vibrating 'ghosts', and a Golden Sphere that grants one's innermost wishes. The latter has legendary status, having only been seen (not experienced) by one old stalker named Vulture, who has lost his legs after contact with hell slime. He had wanted to retrieve the sphere for his own purposes, but ends up giving the map showing its whereabouts to Red. Red and the Vulture's son (Arthur) venture into the Zone in order to find the sphere, and their trek is the subject of the latter part of the novel. The novel is a phenomenal read from start to finish.

The novel truly is an incredible read, and I will likely reread it at some point. The film Stalker by Andrei Tarkovsky really did not do it complete justice, even though it was a good film. The book is better. Tarkovsky's film ultimately became too philosophical; I would have preferred that he focus on the alien and hellish aspects of the Zone much more, e.g., hell slime, the meatgrinder, and so on. Essentially I wish he had made a more sci-fi-oriented film. He did manage to impart an eerie feeling when the Stalker and the men he was guiding enter the Zone and must take care not to 'disturb' it in any way. But in my online research about the movie, I discovered that the screenplay was written by the Strugatsky brothers and was loosely based on their novel. So Tarkovsky's movie is really the movie that the Strugatsky brothers wanted made. Both the book and the movie are considered to be sci-fi classics. 

Victorian Vampire Stories

It's rare to come across a collection of short stories that is so engaging as the collection I am reading now. Of course one must be an aficionado of vampire and horror stories to truly appreciate them, and I am. The only other collection of short stories in the horror genre that I feel the same way about was the one I read back in 2020--H.P. Lovecraft's horror stories. They were individual masterpieces for the most part and I wrote a post at that time about his stories and how much I enjoyed them: A New Yorker in Oslo: The creepy and engrossing stories of H.P. Lovecraft (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com)

The collection of vampire stories I am currently reading is entitled Dracula's Guest: A Connoisseur's Collection of Victorian Vampire Stories, edited by Michael Sims (available on Amazon at Dracula's Guest (Connoisseur's Collections): Sims, Michael: 9781408809969: Amazon.com: Books ). The Victorian Era extended from 1837 to 1901 and was an era filled with social change and political reforms, despite being described as a repressive era, especially sexually. The stories in this collection were written/published during this time. You might think that the Victorians, being the straight-laced repressed people they are often described as, would not be writing (or reading) these types of stories. You'd be wrong. The writing styles are at times verbose and overly-descriptive, but the plots are engrossing, strange, and often creepy. There are stories about entire families that become vampires (The Family of the Vourdalak--quite scary if you can visualize it as an eventual movie, as I could), one about an invisible vampire (What Was It?), one about a very old woman whose younger companion, a male doctor, supplies her with young blood to keep her alive (Good Lady Ducayne), and one about a man who remarries after his first wife dies but who wishes that his first wife could live again (Wake Not the Dead). There are many others that are similarly strange and engrossing, so I recommend buying the book to read them all.  

I found reading the short descriptions about the authors almost as interesting as the stories themselves. Leo Tolstoy's brother, Aleksei, wrote The Family of the Vourdalak; he was a talented writer in his own right. Good Lady Ducayne was written by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, considered to be a premier sensation novelist (one who wrote nerve-wracking and thrilling, sometimes titillating novels). Other stories were written by the romantic poet Lord Byron, and Anne Crawford (who came from a family of artists and writers). These writers may not have described everything in explicit detail, but there was no need to. Readers understand what is said and what is implied, and that is sufficient. These writers were in no way repressed; far from it. 

Reflections on relevance, leadership, and freedom

Once you are no longer a part of the work world, a certain amount of your professional relevance disappears. For many people, that is the same as their professional identity, and it can be difficult to deal with that 'loss' of identity. Perhaps it is most difficult for those who had leadership responsibilities; it seems to be difficult for some to acknowledge that they are not 'in charge' anymore. They may cast around for new venues that will allow them to be in charge once again, and that can be somewhat disconcerting for those who know them. I don't feel that I've lost my professional identity now that I am no longer working. I am no longer relevant to my former workplace, that's true, but I trained as a scientist and a scientist I will always be. It's in my blood, in the same way as my love of books and movies is in my blood. I've always focused on keeping my personal identity alive. After all, even when I was working, I still had nights and weekends and vacations to pursue my hobbies and interests. And I did. 

There is a lot of freedom in no longer having to be relevant to a workplace. I am now free to write and to verbalize about many aspects of workplaces with which I was dissatisfied. It won't lead to much in the sense that workplaces will continue doing pretty much what they've been doing; my opinions won't change them. But it feels good to have that freedom to comment on them, to not have to be so careful about what I say or how I say it. I've always taken good care to not be rude or destructive in my previous posts about workplaces, and that won't change. But I can now state more emphatically that I agree or disagree with this or that way of doing things. I was able to do that this past summer at a garden party, and it felt good. And one of my former leaders (who is no longer a leader) actually agreed with me, whereas when she was my leader, she would have probably told me that my comments were out of place. It made me view her in a new light, because I thought, ah yes, she too had to report to a leader above her, and that was probably not always the easiest thing to do. So I gained a new understanding of her and her attempts (mostly unsuccessful) at being a good leader. As I've stated before, most of the leaders I've had to do with have not been good leaders. And a few are honest and say that themselves. I'm not sure I would have been a good leader either, at least not a top-level leader. There's too much blah blah ad nauseam. I am solution-oriented; I don't want to meet and talk for hours about how to get something done, I want to discuss what needs to be discussed, come up with some plans for a solution(s) (if there are problems), and execute them. I am practical by nature, at least where the work world is concerned. 

I've been a team and project leader and I've reported to several leaders above me during a long career. I've also participated in committee work at the highest leadership level at my former workplace and found it rather disappointing. I had a (rather) utopian view of it; I thought that there was much more freedom at the top level to set things in motion, to be innovative, to be efficient, to effect change. I found out that that wasn't necessarily the case; more often, it was frustrating work. There wasn't more freedom, because in the end, we are always having to answer to other people; we are never truly free. Top-level leaders must answer to the politicians who deal out the money that keeps public sector workplaces going. And unfortunately politicians don't always understand what's at stake or what is needed. Sometimes it amazes me that anything gets done at all in the public sector. But it does, so that's proof that things do work, albeit very very slowly and in a frustrating manner. I probably would have experienced less frustration in the private sector. But it's a moot point at this juncture in my life. 

Train from Michigan--one of my early poems

I wrote this poem in 1988, three years after my father died, and published it in my first-ever collection of poems--Parables and Voices. I've decided to share some of my early poetry with you, as an introduction to my poetry writing. I've been writing for years, ever since I was fourteen years old. Poetry is a wonderful way to express one's feelings, and oftentimes one ends up with a poem that one could never have predicted from the outset. Train from Michigan is one of those poems.

Train from Michigan   

I dreamed then of my father, I was

On the train; outside a yellow moon

Full-light circle against the blue-black sky.

His face came into memory

As I drifted in the sleep of transit,

That is uneasy and unsettled.

We crossed, from Michigan into Ohio,

The train's whistle blowing lonely

As though miles ahead of us--

Yet ever with us through the night.

I thought the thoughts of transit--

My father, dead these three years,

Perhaps traveled this same train

Bound from Michigan to New York.

He knew people in the north of Michigan,

Farmers and ultimately life-long friends.

I see his face, with me always.

My head rests lightly against the train window--

When I awake it is because my head has banged 

And fallen against the window, jarring me.

I visit friends, they live in Michigan now

Having moved there from New York; hence my trip's purpose.

I meet new people on the way to visit old friends,

And think about old friendships as I make my way home.

New people I am always letting in; they find me or

We find each other--one in particular spoke of kindred spirits

On our way out to Michigan; his words surprised me.

Do they, these spirits, find each other?

Are we all in search of one?

About trains, I know they draw me so,

Luring me with the call to adventure,

Like a call to arms.

I boarded one, bound for Michigan,

And then one back, to New York.

Time spread out over hours of track--

Moving me, my life, along,

From one point to another.

Spreading me out, thin, fluid,

Over time which is suddenly the merger

Of past, present, future.

Like liquid spreading I see my life

Moving over these tracks, out and beyond,

Expanding to assimilate Michigan

As I have before incorporated other states

And other countries, American and European.

A fear that I can never belong to someone--

How could one keep me from flooding

Past the walls and out into the open spaces?

It is an abstract love of world I feel,

A pull to know what is unknown, but knowable.

To care for it, about it, accept it for itself, 

The planet, the globe, its rivers and its land,

The farms and their greenness in the summer--

The land you pass through while travelling on a train.

Small towns and the people in them, suburbs and large cities,

Unknown, but knowable.

I look out, I know this river--

I grew up along it, knowing it stretched

For miles, out of my reach--I see it now

In places I never knew before

And feel the vastness of its beauty.

Back in New York, I grew up here,

But I have grown beyond it.

Copyright Paula Mary De Angelis, from Parables and Voices, published in 2011 and available on Amazon: Parables and Voices: A Collection of Poems 1973-2009: De Angelis, Paula Mary: 9781452838762: Amazon.com: Books  

New year, new beginnings

Ending this year on an optimistic note.... It's been a tough year for many people. Let's hope that the new year brings good health and many blessings to all those who are dealing with illness especially. 

The sidewalks of Oslo in winter

I wonder each year, once winter comes, how it is possible that the city of Oslo appears not to care too much about its inhabitants slipping and sliding on the ice that coats most of the sidewalks. I've written about this before, but this year the problem seems even more pronounced. We have had a few snowfalls followed by sub-freezing temperatures, and that's usually fine. The problem arises when the snow melts over a period of a few days of above-freezing temperatures. The snow turns to slush, and then to ice once the temperatures drop again. Apartment and house owners do throw down some gravel, but it's not enough. The sidewalks and even the side roads are slippery as hell. I think the lack of consideration for others is appalling. 

Our co-op maintenance fees are increasing considerably as of January. My question is what are we getting for this increase. Will the board approve more gravel and salt for the sidewalks? Will they hire a person or firm to shovel snow on a continual basis? Will they care about the elderly that live here? Do they care about them at present? It doesn't seem like it. They do hire a plow to clear the road in the inner courtyard so that emergency vehicles can navigate them. But if you want to leave your apartment to walk the short distance to the garbage house, you risk slipping and falling and breaking a bone or two. It's rather pathetic, especially as we approach 2023. Interestingly, the few co-op apartment dwellers who have complained on our co-op's Facebook page are young people, not elderly. The latter have probably given up in frustration; they know that they are not and never will be a priority in this city.

The city cares mostly about keeping the bicycle lanes free of snow; they plow them and scatter salt so that the snow melts and stays melted. All this for the miniscule percentage of city dwellers that actually bikes during the winter. The city should be plowing and salting the sidewalks as well. But of course we live in a city that prioritizes bicyclists, not pedestrians. There are far more of the latter, so it makes no sense. But this is the philosophy that the Green Party politicians are obsessed with; everyone should bike, year-round. It doesn't matter that it's bitter cold; you should just suck it up. If you need studded tires for your bicycle, their purchase is subsidized by the city (Støtte til sykkelpiggdekk (klimatilskudd.no). Like so many others, I'm weary of the Green Party pushing their agenda down our throats. Biking in the wintertime is a high-risk sport. I've been witness to near-fatal accidents with bicyclists in wintertime; one woman actually fell off her bike (hit a slippery patch) and nearly ended up under the wheels of a city bus that was right on her tail. A near miss; she was just lucky. 

It's truly disappointing to realize that a city does not care very much about its inhabitants. It's not as though winter is a short season here in Norway. Even though Oslo does have mild winters at times, when it snows, the problem of snow and ice removal arises. The city doesn't seem to care too much that snow and ice removal from sidewalks is a problem. I guess they think it's ok that there are often record numbers of people who end up in the emergency room with broken bones. And those people are mostly children, young people and middle-aged folks. Elderly people don't dare to leave their homes very often. If they did the numbers would be even higher. I have to say that I just don't get it.