Poetry ~ Waka
She loved her road trips and spinning those wheels, playing her music and singing aloud with an open window. Truck stops were spread out in timely fashions almost as if fast food industries knew when you had to eat but more likely to gas up and pee.
Her fuel gauge told her she should stop soon; she sees a rest-stop with picnic tables surrounded by pine trees. The place is deserted and she sighs with relief.
highway rest-stop
scented pine and Camembert
make-believe terrace
© Tournesol ’15
I had spent a very brief visit with my family in Toronto last summer after a four-day retreat. I always look forward to the long ride returning home to Montreal. It gives me time to adjust to the change of places and reminisce of things I did, people I saw and the life I once had here. I had time to think of my new personal mantra I was given which I could practice for over four hours and how much a part of my heart is still in this city I once called home.
Settling by the window, I allowed the train to rock me like a lullaby…chug chug chug…eyes focused on the city we are crossing, up above on elevated tracks…I am on top of the world and once we are further out, buildings become scarce. Kilometres of meadows, farms and the occasional crossings in smaller villages flash by…my eyes begin to feel so very heavy. I am sitting on the opposite side I usually sit for Lake Ontario is on the other side. I will be noticing a different view on this trip.
I see fields and fields of tall grass as it is time for the first harvest of hay. As we sped by I saw stacked bales of hay each farmer displaying his own mark…some tight round bales, some bales shaped like huge barrels and some square blocks. From the train they looked like mounds of hay or straw plants or shrubs.
The loud echo of the train’s whistle at some crossings roused me and I admired the sky changing colours as the sun began to set…the man across from me gave in to the lullaby but I am still like a little child fighting sleep always, in the event I just might miss something.
© Tournesol ’14
Carpe Diem Ghost Writer, Hamish Gunn has asked us to write a Kikobun; this is writing about about a journey, or part of a journey or wander. The idea of it being about wandering and observing is very relevant.
(c) Tournesol <14
I love traveling by rail and do as often as I can. The trek Montreal to Toronto by car can take about 5 to 6 hours and by train if I am lucky and get the express which only stops at 3 places, it takes 4 and a half hours. Some other trains can take up to 7 hours and the bus takes 6 hours and costs anywhere from $18 to $50. Just fuel to get there one way costs me $70. Now if I am really lucky, I try to book a few days before departing and can get on business class for one-third of the price. That means, I get longer leg room, can get a seat alone by the window and am paying the economy class price.
At business class, we get a 3-course meal with all the before dinner drinks, wine, and after dinner drinks you want. Well, I stick to a glass or two of wine but there are some who can sure pack it in. I would be crawling off the train if I tried to keep up. Last winter we were stalled for an extra two hours due to the cold weather, the tracks were iced and they could not switch tracks. So we waited for all the trains to pass on one particular track as a safety measure. I sure was glad I was in the business class…nice and roomy, blogging away on my laptop.
I visit once or twice a year to see my family now. I rarely go see my friends as there is not enough time but to catch a lot of my friends and colleagues, I pick up a shift in Toronto since it’s the national office of where I work. Every time I leave, I feel homesick barely a few miles out of the city. I have two places I call home since 1997 and it is with mixed feelings I leave each time.
train slows down
nearing a crossing by the lake
echoes on the beach
~
picking up speed
whizzing by lakes and farmland
my heart aches
© CLR 2014/7/07
Submitted for: Carpe Diem Haiku Kai #507, Shiki, Smoke Whirls
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
