There are memories that stay with you forever. It surprises you after years have passed that they are still there, because they’re often not the big, important things you think you ought to recall. Instead, they’re subtle, tiny and sweep by mostly unnoticed at the time. It’s only time passing that gives them weight, substance and clarity.
I sat in a tiny broke-down cabin with a tin roof one night. It was set way back in the woods and there wasn’t any power and it was raining. The sound of the rain splattering against that rickety tin made me feel lonely and desolate. But I had a transistor radio and the batteries were good.
I was in northern Ontario and I was able to get CBC. So while the rain fell and I huddled under thin blankets on a busted up bunk with springs shot through the mattress, I heard…
View original post 967 more words