I went for a walk last night and saw this snail. It was 3 metres from the spot where I’d last seen it, about 10 hours earlier. I felt a flash of camaraderie for this snail, because I’ve been kind of bogged down lately. I’ve had sick kids, a sick partner, a wicked virus followed by a sinus infection, and a fair amount of unnecessary drama going on. And I looked at the snail and the 3 metres of sidewalk it had covered since noon and sighed and thought, hey! it’s me.
And then I reached the lake:
This is part of a waterfront path along Lake Ontario and it’s far more calming than a massage. Especially at dusk. I walked on, feeling less like a snail.
I went to check on the stone sculptures. For about a year, now, someone has been building with stones along the edge of the path. It’s not uncommon to see an inukshuk or two along the way, but the stone sculptor is different: her work tends to be abstract, and it’s generally very restrained. Her sculptures get tumbled by the wind, or fall back into the lake, and then a couple of weeks later she’s back. For a while, there were about 30 sculptures along the path, and part of going for a walk was the fun of seeing what she’d done. Also, people tend to leave the sculptures as they find them.
Tonight, however, I found this:
I’m in two minds about the whole thing. I think the original sculpture – the arch on the left, inside the circle of stones – was terrific on its own. The other stuff seems excessive, overdecorated, fussy. I definitely don’t think it’s by the same person. But all the same, it was inspiring to see someone interacting with the original work, trying to augment it, changing it. Because that’s what we all do, right?
Maybe I’m not a snail, after all.