Tag: new york

My Land | Chapter X (day 1177)

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The other men were friendly. They would keep a wary eye on me. I figured it was given the nature of my looks, but they relaxed as time went on. The women who weren’t married enjoyed my foreign seeming ways, especially so with Jules.

I figured she was around twenty three. She had long sandy brown hair that she would keep tied up in a loose bun that came down as she was going to jump into the water or when she was getting ready for nighttime. To me there was something unearthly beautiful about the moment she let it down. Every time I saw her doing this I would stop and every time I would stop she would enjoy the moment a little bit longer with her hair, steady herself, then look me straight in the eye. Every time. Of course I would just stare back with virgin love in my eyes.

Her father had been a traveling doctor in upper New York. She had six brothers and one other sister. Only one of her brothers had joined her to come out West, who was noticeably younger than her. The rest of them had virtually abandoned the two of them after their father had fallen out of his carriage one dreadful night coming home from an out-of-the-way house call.

Tim, her younger brother, and I got along good too as soon as he noticed my gun.

Jules had attended King’s College to study what she called “Money’s Seb. Money’s make the world go round.” It was hard for me to understand why a woman who knew money would head West in search of something different. It also confused me why such a soft spoken and earthed woman would be interested in money. Perhaps this was part of the reason Jules and Tim had left.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

My Land | Chapter VII (day 1175)

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At night we would all have our tents and sleeping places set and sit around a small campfire. Making too much smoke and light would mean alerting the people we didn’t want to alert. A smart choice.

The coyotes would howl every night. Coyotes and wolves. I hoped they were coyotes at any rate. They never came close though, they were always off in the woods in the distance corralling some innocent prey.

It’s funny thinking about the way nature works without human intervention – naturally this is part of the reason why I chose to head west. In New York ground was ruined most likely forever (or at least scarred) from human’s intervention. There is always a scramble, an urgent scramble to the top, for the most, to accumulate all the wealth, riches, property, land, gold, clothing, food… It’s different understanding the true necessities of life.

The coyotes don’t live with luxuries like leather boots or cutlery or fat bank accounts and they get along just fine. Us humans though, we feel it our duty to posses planet earth and declare it a free for all.

The waste, the abuse, to be entirely honest is there even much beauty to go along with it? I find it hard to believe such transformation of the land is healthy for mother earth.

One thing I enjoy on the trial is the amount of time I have to sit in the saddle and watch the wilderness float on by.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

My Land | Chapter VI (day 1129)

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By the time we had made our way to the next post we were all lifetime friends. I was of course more of a loner, but I had none-the-less made myself a good few friends.

At first some of them were a bit skeptical, I must have looked like a bandit with my mukluks and leathers. They were gifts – I had explained, which was only half true. I won them over with my experience, there were far too many bright eyes in this pioneer train.

Of course the ladies were intriguing to a young bachelor like myself, striking off to start a life of his own. They kept me at a distance knowing what they knew about the old land we had left behind.

Rick-John, called so because of his rickety like movement he pressed forth with, was a friendly chap who struck up conversation right from the start. He had been a bank teller in the old land on account of his ‘Rick’. It’s hard to do manual labour with a Rick. He liked my long barrel. He said he’d never seen a machine look as loved as mine did.

He told me of the various times his bank had been robbed by the notorious gangsters of the time back there in New York. He said he could handle any Indian raid after what he had been through. I knew he was probably bluffing, that he would most likely be the first one dead or pissing his knickers. All the same, I wanted to keep peace, to have no excuse to be raided. I knew better.

This was a reason for my own caution, my own hesitation for staying with the pioneers.  They did make good company and made the lonely time in between not so lonely.

It was a long journey across my land.

[note: to read the full epic track my land]

Strolling (day 886)

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Day dream with me,
A stroll if you will,
Through weeping willows
Flirting the edges of a pond.
Home to Canadian geese
With park benches
Scattered about
In an loosely knit pattern;
Two left, four right.
And old lamp posts –
Think nineteen fifty New York
Al Capone and the Rat Pack,
Steeze so steep
It takes a cane to walk back up –
Strolling.
The only way to hold this dream
Is to head along,
Around and around
Strolling through the gay couples
Hand in hand in thought and plans,
Midday sun with passive flies,
Squirrels about gathering nuts
While little bits of escaping grass
Grow up between the cracks,
Making the scene one of delight
One of softness
Fit for a stroll