Longing

The snow is still on the ground and spring is coming, the warmth of the sun is growing stronger day by day,

I have been driving between cities lately for work. I could easily jump on the highway and shave 15 minutes off the trip but instead I have been roaming the country roads between home and site. I feel at ease in this mix of farm land and cedar scrub forest, its intimately familiar to me.

Simultaneously to my lovey commute is a geopolitical nightmare that has saddened and frightened me. A talking cheeto with a bad haircut has been bloviating on tariffs, national pride and annexing my country. Ive sat at a dinner table and listened to a grandparent talk about the horrors of a nation taking over her home during the second world war. Hearing the jabbering train wreck speak like this hurts my soul in a way that its truly hard to articulate.

On top of this, my wife is six months pregnant with our first child. A three year odyssey full of heartbreak and continual stress. I cannot wait to catch my breath and stare in to the face of my little boy. 

I feel a longing in my heart for times that were and times to come. This feeling is strengthened by the world around me, the good and the bad. A wave of emotional hit me the other day behind the wheel of my truck. To sit in a quite yard, surrounded by trees and grass and fields. To hear birds singing the new spring songs, to feel the warmth of a fire burning oak, maple and ash. To drink a good beer, talking with the ones I love. The world is nothing like I expected it to be, the naivety of youth paints only with bright colours, but there is still so much to be grateful for and so much I long to enjoy.