i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

e. e. cummings

Winter run

I'm not the greatest runner, but I pride myself on the little bit of stamina and determination I do have. I try to get out at least a couple times a week, and last year I even ran all winter - although for at least two months it was at an indoor track.

As I contemplate caving to get a gym membership, getting stuck in a contract so some millionaire can make more bucks off my health, I am inspired by this quote on winter running that was in a CanWest story today:

"When I go running, I feel free. Problems dissipate, solutions become very clear and it helps root me back into my values.... Running is like a deal I keep with myself."

The quote reminded me of the amazing feeling of having cold, clean air in my lungs, and the rush of warmth that heats my limbs, and the power I feel from my legs.

Maybe it's time I invest in some super-grip winter runners.

First snowfall

Sometime overnight, it snowed. A lot.

I woke up and found my car under a thick blanket of heavy, wet snow. As much as I thought I would dread this time, I actually woke up with a tinge of excitement. I'm sure the novelty will wear off. But it's kind of exciting. Christmas is coming, and this is my first winter in the Maritimes.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the day-to-day that I forget how far I've come. I just got through my three-months probation. So now I am an official full-time, unionized newspaper reporter! Amazing. I've been working at the Telegraph for seven months, counting my summer internship. And I've been working as a reporter for 19 months. Pretty, pretty cool!

The snow reminds me of this. It's the seasons turning, and as cheesy as it might sounds, it makes me feel blessed to live in a country like Canada, where we get to experience the seasons so fully. Whether I'm in New Brunswick or Ontario, it's still home. And as we move through another season... my third here in N.B... I'm reminded of the ticking of time, and how it really does heal.

No time

I just found this song by the Arkells. Love it!

They're sitting up in the board room
and you see it like a fly on the wall.
You can hear the man in the suit say
we don't have time to stall

We got deadlines to meet.
Oh we got deadlines to meet.

'Cause time equals money and money's alright
so I'll be working past nine
and those fucking Europeans who vacation from September
they ain't in the right mind

We got deadlines to meet.
Oh we got deadlines to meet.

We need a fire
'cause fire fire
is something we love
We need the time to try try
'cause it's never enough.

We got deadlines to meet.
We got deadlines to meet.
Oh oh
We got deadlines to meet.
We got deadlines to meet.

Falling for New Brunswick

I've fallen a bit behind on the blogging, but I have a pretty good excuse.
This fall, I've befriended a local, and we've been busy drinking in this province's beauty.

But at the Telegraph, I've been writing like a mad woman, and I never have enough time to get it all done. I think that's a good sign, when I have a million ideas and seemingly enough stories to last forever.

Also, when I sit down to write a story, I still enjoy it. I relish it even. I used to wonder if I would ever get sick of writing, but so far, that's not the case.

This past week was pretty fun. I covered city council on Tuesday night - where at least 100 tradesmen showed up to protest out-of-province workers who were brought into work on a liquefied natural gas plant. There was a random crash where a driver hopped out of the truck and stashed something in the long grass before being taken to hospital. I wrote about a grassroots housing program for teens in Saint John's troubled north end. And last week, I covered a heated community meeting - which to me was like a treasure-trove of future story ideas.

The best thing about the last few weeks is I am feeling more a part of this community. I'm understanding it, I'm seeing it, and getting out and talking to everyday people. It's the greatest feeling to wrap your head around a local issue that really matters to people, and do your best to share that story. Makes me feel like I'm not just some outsider here to get clippings and collect a paycheque. Saint John and the natural hidden gems and neighbourhoods here mean something to me. And probably when that happens, you can do your job as a reporter just a little bit better.