seed of frost

once in awhile, in course of human interactions, i would develop certain association. usually visual, sometimes a scent or tactile sensations, these associations then will sink deeply into my mind, until they become part of not just who they are, but of what i am to them as well. like images that one cannot dissociate anymore consciously, let say, christmas and father klaus, or coca cola and polar bears. though not as commercially successful, it's still quite a significant point for me- every single time, to let those images to come, whatever they may be, whenever they arrive.

in banff, with this spaceship fellow passengers, it is rather frequent that these images crystallize. because everyone is different and vibrant in their own way, all kinds of different covalent bonds forms over the time and each one of them are quite different from one another. i could honestly say that those connections i have made are ones that i will carry with me to the outside world, with much fondness and thankfulness. as if to form a covalent bond, both parties have to open, be vulnerable and share. and really, what could you ask more from a person? i think im extremely lucky to have such generous souls around.

and often those characters appear quite frequently in this blogging business. though sparse, mr. bookbomber always is not so far from my mind, as the idea of theosophy often wafts through my neighbours' studios. and as bits of my toronto life pops up here and there, a sprinkle, sliver of the best things of my ties to toronto. and there's mr. salamander, and especially this fall term, the tall-commanding horse lady, mr. guru (though he havent really made a solo entrance, he's been a real pleasure in all sense of the world. what a delightful character!). mr. bearcub. the list can go on for awhile. how nice.

and recently, a sudden image arrived. it trudged its slow steps in my consciousness and finally knocked on the door: am here now! the image of silvery frost on the window pane. ive seen some rel thin ices this week on the trail. as i was taken by awe inspiring late autumnal sunlight reflecting on the bow river, as i could not help but to weep (silly monkey). the edges of the river slowly falling asleep. a bit by bit. strand by strand. and soon the trail will be solid ice. encapsulating every bits of memories, life bits, beauties, love, compassion. letting things to sink into the end of a chapter. for this chapter to carry on, but in a different vessel, however, to next chapter, carrying all that have been through, talked, shared. all things that matter. as next steps of life gets ready for another courageous phase, like dormant-looking bulbs dreaming of spring.

frost on glass panes are quite different from the massive frozen bow river. they are quite delicate. each reflections like smallest and the most clear fish scales, translucent, luminous and weightless. each frost scale lies differently, nestled in angles with one another. each morning, different patterns and directions. still delicate to the point of disappearing. if one is to close and accidentally breath on it, it may be gone- flash, pop, gone. only appears when the conditions are right, only for certain times, hard to capture and impossible to force it to stay. as fragile as the lightest, smallest thoughts of human bond.

but if one realizes how it is formed, there's a very lovely feeling of anticipation, as the fox and the little prince waited for one another, day after day, moving closer to one to another. as 3 o'clock rolled up, as the golden wheat field have turned to a real image of a dear friend. and frost, as fragile they may be, are still snow crystals. snow. solid state of water. in its different form, it may be as delicate as the fall mist rain or wintry frost. or as strong as the maelstrom or avalanche. glacier, powerful enough to mold the earth and rocks, forming this very rockies i am residing in.

like true frost, this particular delicate beauty is not usually on the display. is it hidden? i dont think so. it's just taking its time to be at the right place and time to be found. to be appreciated for its sensitive beauty. you blink, you miss. once you saw it, however, it is ingrained to one's mind. and once in awhile, even a fast running monkey can catch glimpse of such beauty. striking. enough make the mad dash to halt, to get lost in its macrocosmic beauty. it is not hiding. but it's not boasting. quiet. genuine and absolutely magical.

in the great big mountains of rockies, one of the largest and highest peaks of the world, now i carry an image of frost dear to myself, along with all the beautiful things i have found in this particular trail. small and delicate at times, but strong and beautiful enough to cover an entire window, with its organic growth, arcs and trajectories, if impermanent, even more beautiful.