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Finding Kelowna  

Anatomy of a neighbourhood

Beneath the burning trees of autumn my wife and I walk arm in arm through the exit of our community. The broken gateway pretends to keep us secure and releases within me a bubble of memory that bursts: because I forget to shut the garage door, my son’s high-fidelity speakers are stolen. He is angry; I am grievous. And the event slides back into the mud of remembrance with a grin that promises to return.

Through the innocent chatter of home bound children conversation about how safe we feel in a nervous world is belied when we arrive at a house where a mother has been murdered. Here, memory returns like a cat with a dead mouse: A boy of about four plays with his dog. When he sees me, he rushes to the chain link fence that separates him from strangers. I do not know him but he cries out, “Hey! Have you seen my dad?” And I now imagine that it is his mother who has been taken.

Arm and arm we go, along the tree-lined roadway where amber leaves fall to join their brothers. We make comments about the colour and disposition of homes, and wonder about the people who live in them. An older woman emerges from hers, and hails us with words understood only when she reaches the curb. Her accented voice arrests our momentum and talks as if she has known us for a thousand years. Without introduction she wants to bestow blessings upon us. And we are dumbfounded as four cascade from her mouth in rapid succession. When benedictions are succeeded by intimate questions we find a way to leave without offense.

A couple of days later we walk the same route, but this time my wife wants to avoid the street on which the woman lives. We head elsewhere and find a shortcut to Glenmore Boulevard. A plasticized sign is taped to the post which ushers the entrance. It warns people that cars have been robbed three times of valuable belongings, and to be cautious. The warning exhumes the grief caused by my son’s stolen speakers and returns to grin at me.

Glenmore Boulevard is a rush of vehicles. The din of autos combines with the belching roar of motorcycles racing into an uncertain future. And in the distance I see an old orchard home on Garden Valley Drive waiting for demolition. The marsh from which a choir of mating frogs has seasonally exulted is no more. It is a casualty in the collision between nature and development.

When we arrive home, our kitty of eight weeks asks us where we have been, and why we have left him alone. I tuck him snuggly into the cleft of my jacket where he purrs with a song of placid contentment. He does not understand that in exchange for his ministry to humans he will spend his life confined to the walls of their home. He is oblivious to the perils of coyotes, disease and the tires of unforgiving vehicles. And when television news interrupts the communion of animal and man I wonder where all the frogs have gone.

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.



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About the Author

Giovanni is a poet, columnist, interviewer and photographer. His passion for literature and the writing arts began at three years of age when his mother read to him the poems of Giovanni Pascoli.

Finding Kelowna, as he explains it in his website of the same name, is a focus on the ordinary events, people and things that often go unnoticed. Its purpose is to reveal the startling brilliance of everyday life which may be beautiful, tragic or bizarre. Giovanni does this in a creative way that spotlights the sudden encounters, poignant moments and unusual circumstances that pepper daily life.

Through chance conversations and unexpected occurrences, the tone and character of Kelowna and its surroundings is explored. In so doing, Giovanni hopes that the reader will catch a glimpse of himself and of humanity in all its glorious imperfection.

To comment on his columns you may write to him at [email protected]. You may read other articles he has written by viewing his website at www.findingkelowna.com.  You may view his photography blog at www.gioklik.com, and read his poems, stories and perspectives at www.yzed.wordpress.com.

Like Humans of Kelowna on Facebook!  https://www.facebook.com/humansofkelowna



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The views expressed are strictly those of the author and not necessarily those of Castanet. Castanet does not warrant the contents.

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