New Book Prologue Part 2

…I can also see narrow avenues or streets that exit and enter the square at its corners, like rivers entering or feeding a small lake. Amazing. The Grand Place of Arras is like an interaction of time, space, and place. To me this whole scene has a synergy to it. A beautiful synergy to some folk as everything falls into place. No matter the significance or insignificance of the place or the people, the Grand Place, as they call it, is the heartbeat of this city. It is here that you will find your government offices, your cobbler, fishmonger, boulangerie, patisserie, cafes, and even a cloth factory. Typically, the weekly market takes place at this location every Friday. Is it synergistic? It is—a beautiful synergy, like nature itself, where everything has its place and functionality by grand design.

And while it may seem beautiful to most, for me the whole scene is boringly beautiful.

But it wasn’t always this way.

No, it was not. And given the sad state of this place when I was last here twenty-two years ago, I cannot believe how much it has changed over a brief period. It seems like only yesterday that I was walking among the ruins of this place. It was a dreadful, terrible domicile of death. Arras is a dichotomy to me in that while the scene before me now is amazing—peaceful, restive, and reflective—I did everything in my power to shield my consciousness from the terror and horror that this place represents. Up until this point in time, Arras, and its vicinity to the plains and the hills and the outlying farms—did not exist.

“Dad…dad…DAD!”

Hmmm? Hmmm? I turned away from the window toward the sound of a familiar voice. Ah yes, my daughter. My beautiful daughter Charlotte. She has come to fetch me, no doubt. Just in time to pull me out of my funk.

I smiled at her, knowingly and lovingly.

“It is that time, sweetie?”

“Yes, dad. We must go. The dedication ceremony is scheduled to start in two hours. They want us there early.”

Of course they do, I thought. To form up, no doubt. The Army never changes its stripe. Early, early, early. Just in case. Hurry up, hurry up, lads. Hurry up and wait. That is the Army’s credo. To hurry up and wait. For what? To die?

I chuckled to myself.

“What’s so funny?” my daughter asked.

“Nothing sweetie. Nothing really.”

“It is going to be hot today dad. You will not need much. An umbrella perhaps, although they do not call for rain today.”

‘They? Who are they?’ I thought. ‘Ah yes, The Army brass. That is who they is.’

“I will bring a brollie sweetie. It gets stifling hot and humid around here at this time of year. You never can tell when the sky decides to fall in its thunderous fury, just like an Alberta summer blast.

More Al Stewart. For all you retired Navy types: Old Admirals

A musical metaphor for getting old and irrelevant!

Check out my books at the links at the top of the page. Good reads and would make great Christmas gifts. You would be helping out an old retired Royal Canadian Navy veteran.

Also the Caminoman

Cheers.