Back to basics

The morning sun shone on my bedroom window, beckoning me to see its splendour. I always leave the blinds slightly open so it could peek through to wake me. I had never owned, nor thought of owning an alarm clock. In fact, I don’t understand people’s connection to them, nor any other technical gadget. I don’t own a television or cell phone either, and, I choose not to have a car. I read paperback books for entertainment, usually under the tree in my backyard. My best friend Suzie says I’m not normal because of how I choose to live, that is unconventionally, and inconveniently. Despite her disapproval, I continue to air-dry my hair, cook my food over a log burning fire, light candles, and ride my bike to work, daily.

I abhor the thought of enclosing myself in an aluminium box mobilized by a substance that only emits toxins into the air. There is nothing I take more delight in than awakening all my senses amongst Nature! The dew-kissed summer grass, the fragrant lilacs, the bright orange fall leaves, the tender brush of snowflakes on my tongue; each season incites its own magnificence to experience.

This particular morning, I lay in bed peeking back at the sun, my head resting in my arms, overcome by a feeling of serenity. It will be a matter of minutes before Suzie’s cheery voice will be on the other end of my phone receiver. Oh, how I’m dreading today. We are going into the city…to shop. I don’t know which I hate more, shopping or the city!

The sound of the phone rings on cue, interrupting my thoughts.

“Howdy, Janice!” Suzie says.

“Hi Suz. Are you leaving your place now?” I ask.

“Um, actually, I’m parked on your driveway. I’m sorry, I tried calling on my way over, but you know how reception is up in these rural areas,” she says.

“Oh Suz, I need a few minutes, please!” I say as I bolt out of bed.

“Take your time Jan. I’m just playing a game on my phone,” she laughs.

Within seven minutes, I’m outside the front door, cringing as I could see that she has left her 1999 Ford Taurus running the entire time she’s been waiting.

I’m greeted by her usual toothy grin as I enter the car. She places her phone down but I can see she hasn’t finished her game.

“Janice! Come over here. Give me a hug!” she says and extends her arms.

“We’re going to have the best day,” Suzie continues, and turns towards the steering wheel still smiling, before putting her car in reverse.

Once we leave my driveway, I open my window to take in the fresh morning air. Within seconds, Suzie and I are exchanging stories since our last encounter two weeks ago. I look out the open window often, afraid I’ll miss the inosculation of the Maple tree on Alderbrook Lane, the corn field in the town of Alton, or even the colorful row of mums along 9th line.

As we eventually approach Main St. in downtown Toronto, I start getting a familiar feeling emanating from my stomach. The heat begins to rise all the way to my face, and I feel light-headed and nauseous.

“Are you alright?” Suzie asks, as she parks and shuts off the ignition of her car.

“Give me a minute.” I say. I lay my head back and close my eyes. I try desperately to change my thoughts. I think of a running stream, the birds chirping alongside the sound of the current, a tree’s branches above just inches from touching it. I walk towards it, my fingertips reaching to feel its coolness. I take a deep breath, hold it and finally exhale loudly. I tuck away this image only to use it several times during that day.

When Suzie pulls away from my driveway three hours later, I dart to the pond in my yard, where my fish swim freely, shaded by my honey locust tree. I throw myself on the grass under it, arms and legs extended to embrace all the warmth of the sun emerging through its branches. I can finally breathe again.