Sunday, January 29, 2006

I swear I saw

...more traffic in the past five minutes than I saw on the entire way here. And people. I'm not used to so many people. I lived in Saskatoon for a couple years a long time ago. It's a beautiful city.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live in a city again. I thought about it tonight as a bagpiper marched through the restaurant, My Bonnie Lassie bouncing off the windows. All heads turned to the spectacle. I had just one thought. Tomorrow, as soon as it is light, I'm heading back north where I belong.


Tracy Hamon said...

I made a typo on the last comment. What I meant to say: Nothing say bag-piping like a tight sporran.

doggerelblogger said...

I've just found your blog - and I like it very much. When I have more time, I will give it a good, long read - I am very interested in your perspective, being a city girl myself.

I've also recently returned from a trip to Saskatoon, please stop by my blog and take a look at some of my pictures.

Any idea what a spudnut is?

Anonymous said...

I'm reminded of Peter Matthiessen's comment in The Snow Leopard: referring to zoologist George Schaller, his companion on the journey to Crystal Mountain, Matthiessen said Schaller "loathes all cities". I wouldn't go as far as that myself, but do understand the feeling. Cities aren't my natural habitat.

Tracy: Or, perhaps, nothing says "tight sporran" like bagpiping?

Kate S. said...

I grew up in Saskatoon but now live in Toronto. When I go home for a visit, the minute we pull into the city from the airport, I feel a sense of relief in anticipation of slowing down for a few days or weeks. It's all in one's perspective I guess!

Brenda Schmidt said...

Tracy, we missed a great photo op. I had the perfect composition in mind.

I have no idea what a spudnut is, but I've seen the odd sporran.

Pete, you put it perfectly. Cities aren't my natural habitat.

Kate, the matter of perspective interests me. I often think about it at the end of writers/artists colonies when I'm saying goodbye to writers from large cities such as yours. After spending a couple weeks in the rhythm of the colony, it's hard to believe our everyday lives are so different. What is urban, what is rural? On the other hand, when I attended Jon Paul Fiorentino and Robert Kroetsch's great Post-Prairie panel at the 2005 Winnipeg Writers Festival and read the book's opening dialogue and some of the poems on the 12 1/2 hour bus ride home to the north, I was very conscious of place and differences in perspective.