(a roll of film from the holidays)
I thought about tradition, the significance of each time-honoured practice. Why some lose their spark, or never fail to do so. How despite being hand-me-downs from generations past, welcomed year in, year out, they still preserve that certain spontaneity. I thought about this and how it all tied into my own family's traditions; the rituals and folklore we unearth every twelve months. I thought about this later, after it was all said and done. I was living it at the time. We all were.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder. I wonder where I'll be this time next year. I wonder how many more times we'll open our apple boxes. I wonder how many more games of fox and geese I'll play before I tire of it. I wonder if I'll ever tire of snow games entirely, if I'll ever lose my gift to play, really
play, like a child. I wonder if any new traditions were born from our whims, if we'll go glow-bowling three days before Christmas and have supper at
Wu's Chinese and Canadian Dishes three days after. I wonder and I am
in wonder - of this season, this province, these people. They are good.
