Those caught by the rising waters
The small size of our provincial community was shown, today, but for the wrong reason. A young man and his much younger son died in a boating accident. Given that the young man was on his way to joining an even smaller community (that of elected officials), his name and face were well known, and our community is marked by this loss. I know his father, because that’s how it works in a small community; you always know someone from the family.
The public display of solidarity, where all of the parties running in “his riding” have removed electoral signs and ceased campaigning through the election day (next week) might not happen elsewhere. Politics is a motor, not a brake. I’m reassured that I live among people who care enough to lay down their banners and grieve. That is how a community is supposed to be.
We’re staying home tonight, despite the “draw” of a Trivia night. Our own group is absent, for a variety of reasons, and I don’t have the extrovert tendency to seek out a new table.
The waters are rising; in ON, in QC, in NB and other areas. Spring runoff sometimes spills. Up, over the banks, into the streets and basements. One fatality, so far. After watching some video footage, I realize how quickly the frontier between a river and the bank can be crossed, and when water in the streets rises quickly, one had best not tarry. Don’t try to wonder over the question “But why do they build there?”. While watching the video, I realized that the older places were built back when that particular river was well behaved. Times have changed, evidently.
