A Lesson From Oliver


Like any other morning I was up at four, the day Oliver met with his
violent death.

At four in the morning the grass is wet.

Now, it's still wet at 6 a.m. and even at seven, and these tend to
be the hours of choice for most people wishing to appreciate the phenomenon
of grass wetness. But it's a tragedy of economics that, when work starts
at 5 a.m., one is not afforded the same time-options for grass appreciation
as members of the sane world.

Nor was this tragedy confined to my having to appreciate the wet
grass while in a metabolic state more suited to hibernation. Four a.m. was
my only chance to absorb all of northern Ontario's summer morning treasures.
These ...

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would come the most striking sensation of all: the smell of fresh
dew on the grass - I think the terms "exhilarating" and "intoxicating" were
coined by someone who'd just taken their first breath of northern morning
air (though they likely did so between 6 and 7 a.m. when one is better
primed to wax poetic and the passage of sensory information from one's
nostrils to the brain is not so hopelessly clogged - as is the case at 4
a.m.).

All these sensations I can fully appreciate only now, in retrospect
(since at this moment I assure you it is not 4 a.m.).

At four o'clock that morning of June 26, 1979, as I trudged across
the acre-sized lawn to the old shed outside my parents' modest rural home -
situated along the English Bay sideroad, overlooking the secluded,
sparkling waters of Blue-Pine Lake, some six miles west of the small
tourist town of Thistle, Ontario - the only sensation permeating my groggy
consciousness was the bite of that long wet grass seeping through ...

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There was the blue-black sky hanging overhead like some bottomless,
gravity-defying lake; there was the ghostly grey strip of gravel tenuously
marking my pathway; and there were the two ominous black walls, shapeless
and unbroken, flanking either side of the road. The cool air licked at my
face and began to wash the throbbing numbness from my head. It also
cleared my eyes and I began to distinguish for the first time the
individual trees - mostly birch, poplar and pines of several variety - of
which those unending roadside walls were built.

I was beginning to wake up.

Accordingly, my thoughts progressed to the next stage of their
traditional morning jog which took them ...

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PAPER DETAILS
Added: 4/5/2005 01:02:46 AM
Category: Creative Writing
Type: Premium Paper
Words: 13164
Pages: 48

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