2Paths Team Blog

It happened again, I got tangled in the eddy of the winding years

Just a moment ago, I stood in a thicket of pale green buds, yearning up toward the waxing light
There was no horizon there, just branches hung with sparkling drips, the first spring warmth, a gentle gurgle from the melted snow

I was down on haunches to take in a bright uncoiling fern
Delicate slow motion gesture
Every frond outstretched, exquisite grace
Each formed of tiny fractal copies of itself, and each alive

With the subterranean throb of waking life,
I slowly breathed the rising sun-warmed funk of last years mulch
Lost until I reeled and swooned toward the the tiny spiral there

With a microscopic crackle and electric hum
The frond unfurled with a creeping pace
I saw it grow!

—<0>—

Jarred awake, I stood and marked the passing time
Set off at once with determined steps toward the falling sun
Now the world was drowsy hot
Tawny golden wheat shimmered in the heated air, stirred with undulating ripples to the distant sky
Bees buzzed in the dun parched hollow

—<0>—

My footsteps plodded down the shadowed forest path
Cracked sudden on a thin-iced puddle
Jagged slivers traced a star out to the lace-edged frost
Concentric angles radiating from minute points

Like the veins in maple leaves above
Touched with flame, ablaze against a lacquered sky
That birch: a tumbled chandelier, leaves hued like candle flames

—<0>—

The sky bled fast to clotted indigo
Stars wheeled unchecked their arcing course
My crunching footsteps ringed with lilac in the snow
Beneath stark criss-crossed branches to my home, familiar cul de sac

Inside is gloom, it seems to be the end, so cold and dark and still
But at the hearth a ghost of warmth remains

Digging into ashes, there’s a sullen ember still

Blow gentle breath, the glow revives
With straw and twigs and crisp old leaves,
A ruddy light infects the stove, ignites

Soon leaping flames reveal the nestling room
Shadows stir and wave
The tinge of warmth invokes the memory of sun and light and growth

The fire’s heart: a den of coals ripples with its in-drawn breath
and flings it up as flame
Gives me hope and strength to abide the lull,
To ride the coiling year
Till Spring curves round again

With great vigor and a sense of wonder we headed into the great wide open that is Whistler Mountain. It’s not often that one can enjoy a day (or weekend even) on the slopes thanks to one’s workplace yet that is indeed what we were able to do as our work Christmas do.

Most of us stayed together within the confines of a lovely condo within Whistler Village itself. This allowed for some more relaxed socialising and a distinct family feel to the weekend as we all got to know each other better. The weather was fabulous and the snow was in immaculate condition, being so early in the season. As a group, those of us more comfortable with the terrain managed to stay together and enjoy the skiing/boarding together which is sometimes rare with larger groups as the more hardcore lose patience and trail off to find their own powder moments.

The thing that struck me most of all, apart from the great conversation, excellent skiing and riding and all round good times, was the fact that in two days of constant interaction, we all managed to NOT talk shop. This indeed is something that I think highlights our abilities to gel as a team (and as people) in that it shows we can actually have interesting and constructive interactions which do not necessarily bare any relation to our work selves.