Michael Robert Dyet's Blog, page 65

Gratitude for the Gifted Few Who Lovingly Preserve a Lost Art

“Her body moved with the frankness that comes from solitary habits. But solitude is only a human presumption. Every quiet step is thunder to beetle life underfoot; every choice is a world made new for the chosen. All secrets are witnessed.”

Hmmm, are there many of us left who prize the poet living within the novelist and the magical dance with language to which they treat us?

I don’t often write about the art of writing. I’m always a bit reluctant to wade into the subject. All forms of art are highly personal. What is brilliant in one person’s eyes can be mediocre in the eyes of another.

The paragraph at the top of this post, the opening lines from Barbara Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer, is my hands-down favourite opening of a novel. Kingsolver is one of my favourite writers in large part because of her elegant and poetic narrative voice.

The majority of novelists in this era are primarily storytellers. I don’t mean that in a pejorative way. Engaging storytelling is a critical component of a good novel. But a novelist’s facility with language, the ability to weave magic with it and paint compelling mental pictures, is what brings a novel to life for me.

The opening lines from Donna Morrissey’s Downhill Chance are another glowing example. Morrissey is an east coast, Canadian writer with a distinctive voice and a rare gift for infusing language with passion and visual brilliance.

“It was a dirty old night that washed Gid O’Mara up on the shores of Rocky Head. Sheila’s Brush, the old-timers called it, that late-spring storm that comes with the fury of February winds, transfiguring the desolate rock island of Newfoundland into a great whale soaring out of the Atlantic, shaking and writhing as if to rid itself of the shacks, wharves and boats clinging to its granite shores like barnacles.”

You just know when you read those opening lines that the novel is going to be a literary masterpiece with images and emotions that leap off the page. There are those who will assert that this is self-indulgent writing. I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.

The novelist I most admire, and most aspire to emulate (although I doubt I will ever come close to doing so), is southern U.S. novelist David Payne. He combines a remarkable facility with language with gifted storytelling that makes me linger over every page. Don’t take my word for it. Let the opening lines of his novel Gravesend Light speak for him.

“Cracking the hawser like a sluggish whip, Joe Madden shook off the row of icicles that had formed like murderous tinsel overnight and leaped aboard, his steps ringing on the already moving boat. Above him in the bow, Jubal Ames, in aviator glasses, red hair stiff as a wire brush, loomed through the tinted lexan windows of the wheelhouse.”

It is difficult these days to find novelists who demonstrate mastery over language and the ability to bend it to their will. I’ll go so far as to say that many writers who are published these days are notably lacking in this regard.

One of the tools of this style of writing – you knew I was going to say it – is the skillful use of metaphor. It is fast becoming a lost art. I’m grateful to the small group of gifted novelists who labour to keep it alive.

A literary world without metaphor would be a barren place for those of us still in love with it. Call me old school if you must for hanging on to this dying art form. I’ll take it as a compliment even if it was not intended that way.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Books, Designer Dolls, a Pound of Lard and a Kick-Ass Crossbow

Hmmm, is Walmartization the future of retail and, if so, is that something to celebrate or to mourn?

I’m probably showing my age when I make this declaration. But honestly, I miss the good old days when grocery stores sold groceries, bookstores sold books and Canadian Tire sold tires and other automobile accessories.

In the survival of the fittest corporate world of the 21st century, it seems retail specialization is a thing of the past. Many of the big retail chain stores are crossing over into multiple product categories that have little to do with what they started out selling.

Indigo Books & Music is one of the latest to join the fray. Faced with declining sales of books in the digital age, they are leapfrogging across product boundaries to sell toys, children’s products, gifts and home wares.

I learned today that Indigo has struck a deal with “American Girl” to sell their high end dolls which command prices of $80 to $100 for “Bitty Baby” or “My American Girl”. So much for a pleasant hour spent browsing my local Indigo. I can’t see myself navigating around designer dolls to find the latest titles.

Online book seller Amazon is getting in on the act as well. In addition to toys, beauty products and home goods, they are reportedly considering launching online grocery and auto shops. Can’t say I ever thought I would see the day when I could order spark plugs, a pound of lard and mascara with one click of my mouse.  (Insert your own punch line here.)

I suppose I should see it as convenient that I can buy live trout and children’s clothing at the grocery store and drop off my dry cleaning on the way out. Or grab a couple of packages of paper towels and a Snickers bar while I’m in Canadian Tire to stock up on weed killer.

Maybe I should head on over to Walmart to do my weekly grocery shopping, find a new winter coat, replace my outdated microwave oven, pick out a new file cabinet, stock up on motor oil, score a snorkel and goggles for my next summer vacation and throw in a kick-ass crossbow… just because I can.

Too bad I won’t be able to pick up a two four of Coors Light at my corner convenience store since the government has nixed that idea. But the day surely can’t be far off when I can add that staple to my overflowing shopping cart at Walmart.

I’m pretty certain that I’ll eventually be able to rent an apartment, or buy a condo, above a Walmart. It seems like a logical product extension for the store that aims to have it all.

All kidding aside, I miss the days when each retail store specialized in a particular product area. Stores had a distinct personality back then. You could take your time and browse for interesting finds rather than rushing to get to the checkout line before the 172 other people shopping at the same time.

Walmart  may well be on the way to offering one-stop shopping utopia with Indigo and Amazon following the trail it blazes. But for me it has become a metaphor for a one-size-fits-all, blur the lines, melting pot experience that leaves me feeling rather uninspired… and yearning for the good old days when books were books and dolls were dolls and never the twain shall meet.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Reconnecting with Tess: Minor Assembly Required

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Hmmm, do Tess Nology and I need couples counselling to restore the fractured trust between us?

As I write this article, I don’t know when I’ll be able to post it. When I tried to log on to the web tonight, I got the infuriatingly cute message at the top of this post. Few things irritate me more than being cut off by Tess Nology. The frustration arises in large part from the fact that there are multiple reasons this could be happening:

a)   Our internet service provider has an outage.

b)    The internet service to our apartment building is down.

c)    Her wireless router is kaput.

d)    Her modem crapped out.

e)    One of the cables to her modem or her router is fried.

f)     All of the above or any combination of them.

g)    Tess Nology is pissed at me because I don’t pay enough attention to her.

I have no means of determining which of these reasons apply. You see, I really don’t understand much about Tess Nology’s operating systems. It’s like I wake up one morning and find myself exiled to the moon. I have no idea how I got there or how to get back home.

So I do the obvious things. Gently disconnect and reconnect all her cables and wires. Check to see if all the lights on her router and modem are working. Unplug her main power cable and plug it back in. None of the above gets me any closer to finding out what is wrong with her. So I move to step two: do nothing and hope that she’ll have rebooted herself by tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, access to my e-mails, my blog, Facebook and a couple of other social networking sites are cut off. I hate to admit it but that bugs me to no end. The fact that something I’m cut off from the virtual world because Tess Nology is having a bad day makes me resentful.

Confession: There is a part of me that says Tess Nology should be flawless. She should never fail or, if she does, she should fix herself automatically. She should also update herself when necessary without me with needing to hold her hand and push her buttons properly (which I never seem to be able to do.)

Yes, I know that sounds unreasonable. But the truth is that when I entered into a relationship with Tess Nology, I surrendered myself to something over which I have no control. I really don’t like giving up control. And when Tess Nology holds me hostage by withholding what I’ve entrusted her to deliver, the only avenue open to me is the dreaded call to the Tech Help Couples Counsellor.

My prenuptial User Agreement with Tess Nology is simple: I surrender control to you. In return, you never fail or, if you do, you fix yourself. “User Agreement” in this context is a metaphor for mutual trust. Right now I’m not feeling the trust!

Of course, if my internet connection is back up tomorrow morning, all is forgiven and Tess Nology and I will be back on speaking terms. After all, relationships require us to forgive and forget if we’re going to make it work in the long term.

(Tess Nology’s problem turned out to be a worn out modem cable. Minor assembly required.)

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Random Act of Metaphor: Full Moon Riding the Zenith of an October Night Sky

Hmmm, if I worship autumn solely for its exuberance, would my soul be satisfied?

Autumn in October is an untamed exuberance of colours that rise to a fevered climax before gracefully fading into pastel shades. Splashes of scarlet and electric crimson, speckles of burning gold, waves of earthy goldenrod and apple green and pumpkin orange.

An endless palette and the ability to mix and match the myriad hues at will. It always seems determined to burn itself down to the end of the candle wick before surrendering its hold.

But there is also splendour of a different class in a mid October night sky. When day is done and darkness falls, comes the full moon suspended in a placid sky on invisible strands of starlight and filtered through wispy clouds of angel garland.

I love the bold parade of autumn colours that hold court from sunrise to sundown. But there is something quietly mystical in the October night sky that speaks to my soul at a deeper level.

The full moon riding the zenith of a serene October night sky – a random act of metaphor to remind me that the soul has many faces all of which are hallowed and to be prized.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Cell Phone Mania: McLuhan Revisited in the Digital Age

Hmmm, are we closing in on the day when the cell phone fulfills McLuhan’s prophecy?

According to the International Telecommunications Union, the number of cell phones will exceed the world population in 2014. That means 7.3 billion active cell phones. Let’s put that in figures for dramatic effect – 7,3000,000,000.

This does not mean that every person will have a cell phone or even that cell phone service will exist everywhere. What is driving this statistic is the number of users who own multiple devices.

The same article that quotes the above figures notes that there are more than a hundred countries in the world where the number of cell phones already exceeds the population. Apparently, Asia – in particular, China – is the cell phone mecca. Smartphone manufacturers are salivating to tap its potential.

The United States is not far behind: 91% of American adults have a cell phone, 56% have a smartphone, and 34% have a tablet computer.

In short, cell phone mania is sweeping the world and shows no sign of slowing down. There is no shortage of cell phones to choose from with over 80 brands in the market.

Fifty years ago, Canadian Marshall McLuhan coined the phrase “the medium is the message” in his landmark book Understanding

Media: The Extensions of Man. The essence of that now famous phrase is that the form of the medium embeds itself in the message and influences how the message is received.

The digital age had not yet arrived when McLuhan was mapping the subtleties of media and its impact. But it seems to me that the principles he put forth are readily transferable. More than 30 years after McLuhan’s death, that phrase resonates more profoundly than ever before.

A face to face conversation and a cell phone conversation can evoke entirely different responses even if the words used are identical. As our message is squeezed into that electronic device, transmitted through space, received and processed by another electronic device, it seems to get remixed in the translation.

I can’t help but wonder what the impact of the medium on the message will be on that day when the number of cell phones exceeds the number of cell phone users worldwide. Will we have reached the point where themedium becomes more influential than the message?

Yes, I know I’m straying into treacherous philosophical territory here. But I believe that McLuhan’s theory is scalable and may just reach its full realization on the day we cross that threshold.

The medium is the message was a metaphor in its own time for the fact that we had created an organism – the media in all its incarnations – which we could not entirely control. On that landmark day in 2014, the metaphor will be reborn in an entirely new dimension. McLuhan will be smiling down on us from above when that happens.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

The Fiscal Cliff, Dancing on Hot Coals and Bragging Rights

Hmmm, who is looking out for us as politicians play with fire and vie to be the last man hanging?

I won’t pretend to understand the perplexing and cutthroat realm of politics. Frankly, I do my best to steer clear of it wherever possible. But it is tough to turn a blind eye to the political turmoil of our neighbour to the south.

At the end of 2012, the term “fiscal cliff” was coined as the U.S. government teetered on the brink of disaster. An eleventh hour deal averted that crisis. Political cynics like me wondered if they didn’t run it down to the two minute morning just for dramatic effect.

Less than a year later, the U.S. is staring at the fiscal cliff yet again resulting in a partial U.S. government shutdown after Congress failed to pass a key funding bill. From what I’ve read, around 800,000 government employees have been sent home without pay while another one million are being asked to work without pay.

I have no doubt there are many persuasive arguments on both sides of the equation. But, from a layman’s perspective, it looks at its core like partisan politics at its worst – a catfight between between the Republican-dominated House of Representatives and the Democrat-controlled Senate.

The optimist in me – or is the pessimist? – thinks: No need to worry. They’ll dance on the hot coals for a while and then hammer out a deal just before hell freezes over. And they probably will. But the repercussions for the U.S. and Canadian economy have already begun and will continue long after the political posturing has moved on to other stages.

The real question in my mind becomes what it means to be a politician in this day and age. Already one of the dictionary definitions of “politician” is: a seeker or holder of public office, who is more concerned about winning favor or retaining power than about maintaining principles. In too many cases, that definition seems to ring true.

Politics was once considerable an honourable profession. Now a Readers Digest poll tells us politicians are number 2 on the top 10 most distrusted professions list – outranked only by psychics and just ahead of fundraisers. Small wonder that only 64% of Canadians voted in the last federal election.

Election campaigns have become mudslinging extravaganzas wherein political parties devote most of their advertising to telling us why we shouldn’t vote for the other guy. The much heralded TV debates between the party leaders are more akin to reality TV’s Big Brother eviction day bickering than the distinguished forum they are meant to be.

I do believe that at least some of our elected officials were idealistic when they first ventured into the political waters and truly believed in representing the people who elected them. The game of politics corrupted them along the way.

But I also believe that there is a contingent who knew from the get-go what it is really all about and entered the game fully prepared to make promises they never intend to keep and flip-flop whenever political expediency requires it.

I cling to the belief, or perhaps the hope, that there are still a few politicians who try hard to hold onto their principles and walk the fine line between integrity and political reality. Sadly, they are a vanishing breed.

Fiscal cliff seems to have become the metaphor for politician’s behaviour in these times. It’s all about how far and how long you can hang out over the edge without a safety net. Bragging rights go to the politician who holds out the longest. Meanwhile, we the electorate wonder if this is the time our job is sacrificed in the bargain.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

Random Act of Metaphor: The Extravagance of a Late September Sunset Halo

Hmmm, should I slip away to the ride the train of memory or seize the moment and live within it?

Looking out my 18th floor apartment window, I see a wedge of sunlight that filters between the buildings as the sun arches toward the horizon. It feathers through the treetops like a celestial halo that blesses that which it touches for a few precious minutes before sunset.

It is always there around this time of day. But the particular angle it strikes in late September and October gives it a particular poignancy. It often seems to me to be pointing, figuratively speaking, to years past and the memories that reach out from them. I’m tempted to give myself over for a while to a memory train ride.

But as pleasant as that would be – I do indulge myself in that manner periodically – I realize that this extravagance of sunlight only exists, in that particular configuration, for perhaps fifteen minutes. It seems more important to meditate on its elusive beauty while it holds court.

The extravagance of a late September sunset halo – a random act of metaphor to remind me that, though memories may be poignant, they only exist to provide context for the elusive graces that each moment holds. Life is in the here and now and must be grasped with vigour before it slips away.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog . Visit www.smashwords.com to download a free preview of the e-book version.

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

A Pledge of Allegiance to Autumn and Wheeling Blackbirds

“There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!” ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, English Romantic Poet, 1792 – 1822

Hmmm, of all the seasons with their varied glories, I owe to autumn my soul’s allegiance.

Time has become an elusive commodity in our modern world. There are still 24 hours in a day. But they seem to slip away from us much faster. The turbocharged pace of life keeps us on the proverbial treadmill. As hard as I try to gear down on the weekends to enjoy the splendour of the seasons, I still find myself racing the clock more often than not.

Spring is the season of anticipation. It quickens my pulse with the expectation of the miracle of migration. I set out in the morning determined to cover as much territory as possible. It pains me to think I might miss a rare species which is passing through on that particular day.

Summer is the season of excess. All of nature’s children exult in its glory. Butterflies cavort in the meadows and dragonflies patrol the marshes to squeeze every ounce of life out of the few weeks they are given. I in turn pursue them with vigour knowing they will be gone all too soon.

Winter is the season of endurance. It has its moments of spectacular beauty. Intricate frost etchings on windowpanes. Wind sculpted drifts of virgin snow. Diamond-glittered ice glazing on naked trees. But I am not a winter person. I wait it out impatiently wishing the time away.

Autumn is the one time of year in which I seem to be able to slow my heart and linger in the graces of the season. The days may be getting shorter. But I don’t feel compelled to race them to their conclusion. As Shelley so eloquently puts it, there is a harmony in autumn that can’t be found in the other seasons.

“Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable…the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street…by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.” ~ Hal Borland, American Author and Journalist, 1900 – 1978

Autumn begins for me, regardless of the date on the calendar, when the first wheeling flock of blackbirds passes overhead and falls out of the sky in unison to perch on hydro wires. A silent cadence settles over me then as I take in the first breath of the new season.

Yes, autumn passes, like spring and summer, too quickly for my liking. Life’s demands deprive me of the leisure I crave to fully explore the feast it offers. But I find it easier to release myself into its calming embrace. I wish it could linger awhile longer but I do not begrudge its slow and steady progression.

And so, autumn is my metaphor for contentment. I am content to watch the leaves flame into colour, wither and fall. I am content to say farewell to the birds as they shed their summer garb and hasten south. I am content to give thanksgiving for the harmony of the season.

The final words belong to George Eliot:

“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.” ~ George Eliot, English Novelist, 1819 – 1880

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To”

nstructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Unnerved By the Urge to Self-Serve

Hmmm, are we self-serving ourselves down a dangerous, dead-end road?

One of the double-edged benefits of technology is the increasing ways and means it gives us to “self-serve”. We’re supposed to perceive this trend as a good thing since it is more efficient and gets us on the way to our next errand faster.

I’ll readily concede that ATMs were a positive game-changer since they give us access to our money 24/7 instead of only during banker’s hours. But recently, I’ve seen evidence that the corporate world is funneling us into the self-serve mode wherever possible whether we want to go that route or not.

Personally speaking, I’m a bit unnerved by how far and how fast this trend is spreading. A few examples of the “self-serve” juggernaut:

My local grocery store has installed self-serve checkout lines. You scan the bar codes on the items you’re purchasing, pay by debit or credit card, bag your purchases and bob’s your uncle. There are two self-serve stations where full service checkouts used to be. I’ll bet a week’s pay that the self-serve stations will outnumber the full service checkouts in the not too distant future.

I went through the check-out line at Home Depot this week. The check-out person walked me over to the self-serve station – without my asking her to do so – to complete the transaction. I was pleased that I did not have to use my credit card as the machine accepts bills and kicks out change. But I was less than pleased at the not-so-subtle suggestion I was being given.

Airports now have self-serve stations for checking in for your flight. A couple of years back, when I flew to and from a U.S. city, it wasn’t a question of choice. I had to check-in via the electronic terminal.

It’s tough to find a gas station that hasn’t fully converted to the pump-your-own method. Now many of them have “pay at the pump” lines where you can bypass the station attendant altogether.

Aside from ATMs, I am personally boycotting “self-serve” technology. It is my small act of civil disobedience on principle.

It’s a no-brainer that, every time a self-serve line is added at the gas station or the grocery store or Home Depot, more hardworking people lose their jobs in the interests of higher corporate profits. I’ll wait in line at the full service check-out rather than support that money grab.

In my mind, that principle is reason enough to buck the trend. But it’s not my only reason. High tech machines and I don’t get along particularly well. I seem to exude some sort of bad technology karma that causes them to frequently malfunction when serving me. I would really rather not deal with them while the people-powered alternatives are still available.

And finally, I have reservations on a philosophical level. Increasingly, our interactions are person-to-machine rather than person-to-person. It’s one more way in which our world is becoming depersonalized. I’m convinced that, the more depersonalized our world becomes, the easier it is to adopt the me-first philosophy.

As I see it, “self-serve” is becoming – in subtle and insidious ways – a metaphor for “self-serving” and opening the door for us to behave that way with impunity. The day may come when I have no choice but to pay at the pump. But I’ll stand on principle as long as I can. I hope I’m not alone.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

 

 

Random Act of Metaphor: A Chorus of Cicadas on a Serene September Sunday

Hmmm, how often do we miss the feast because we are blinded by our preconceptions?

I was planning on making up for lost time when I headed down to the lakefront this afternoon for my first outing of the fall bird migration season. The weather was exquisite and I was visiting one of my usually reliable locations. However, within a half hour of arriving, it was clear this was a “famine” day in the feast or famine swings of bird migration patterns.

I methodically checked the normal hotspots with disappointing results. It wasn’t until I was tracking a warbler in the bowl that I became conscious of the cicada’s electric buzz from high in the treetops. One cicada’s buzz would rise from above, linger lazily and slowly fade out as another cicada chimed in.

My impatience began to melt as it occurred to me that it wasn’t random singing but rather a full chorus. What at first seemed like just background noise, became a symphony of exquisite simplicity.

The rest of the afternoon took on a different perspective. I paused again and again to marvel at the aerial ballet of dragonflies – Darners, Saddlebags and Gliders – as they staged for their own migration. I gazed at regal Monarch butterflies fluttering through the fields and watched band-winged grasshoppers launching themselves into the air.

It was not a famine day at all. Far from it. I just wasn’t tuned in to the frequency nature was operating at for the day.

A chorus of cicadas buzzing from the treetops on a serene September Sunday – a random act of metaphor to remind me to slow down, tune in and release my preconceptions of what the day should bring. Only then could I receive the feast that awaited.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions

page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.