A Fairytale Life
2009-06-07 21:25:23.000 – Mike Finnegan, IT Observer
I could write this comment on the trip Brian, Alex, and I took over to the Great Gulf to seek some June turns, but I think you would be better off looking at this week’s ObsCast. The short video shows the trip from beginning to end, leaving work and returning home with a few runs in between. Instead I will tell you of a different enchanting place.
Within this mountaintop citadel, there is a room with panoramic windows that run from the west to the east, the rocky ridge of the Northern Presidential’s due north. Tonight I was tired of sitting in front of a computer so I decided to write this comment on paper, allowing me to write anywhere. Walking down the hallway, I heard what sounded like pipe music. I thought it was Sharron playing her recorder, so I followed my ears towards the sound, wandering into this particular room. It was in the dark except for a few soft ceiling lights at either end, classical music playing from a radio. It felt very much like a sanctuary. I sat down at a table nearest the windows and looked to the northeast to see if I could distinguish any red on the horizon from the fading sunset. I find myself curious as to where it is rising at this moment in time. I see the dark red line vanish in the fog and see only the reflection of the lights behind me. We have been going in and out of the fog for some time, seeing a couple hundred feet one minute and 80 miles the next. At one point I stood up to put my hands to the window for a clearer look and found it socked in by the time I walked the six feet to the window. I write a few sentences but am distracted after every sentence by the views and general atmosphere. I find it difficult to see where to begin to write on the paper and reading what I wrote is impossible due to the lack of light (not penmanship). I consider finding a candle, but instead go get my headlamp and hold it in my hand, diffusing much of the light. In a few minutes, Danny comes over and asks what I’m doing, then offers me his light, which turns into a candle. What great luck! So now I sit here, music worthy of a fairytale cartoon playing, looking out over a magnificent land, albeit enshrouded in fog, writing by the soft glow of a candle, albeit electric. And in this limited perspective of existence, life seems but a fairytale. As it happens, there’s a lot more than that to this story, but let’s not ruin a good story with the truth.
Mike Finnegan, IT Observer