Postcard

The Lure of the Mountains

/ Sandi Knight / 2 Comments

A Postcard Story

Annapurna Base Camp — 2018

She stood in awe of the mountains towering around her, inhaling deeply the pure, crisp, cold air, wondering why it had taken her so long to get here.

She could hear the echos of those who had come before her, feel the spirits of those who never made it home, lost to the power of nature in this incredible landscape.

A place where beauty and harshness collide, where light and darkness create shadows of hope and fear, faith and uncertainty, power and helplessness. A place where time stood still, yet urged you to move forward — to follow your dreams, listen to the yearnings of your heart, use your gifts and your strengths to their full potential.

This moment was fleeting yet she knew it would stay with her forever. She now understood the lure of the mountains. Coming back would not be merely a dream, it would be her reality, her future. Of that she was certain.

Softness in the morning light

/ Sandi Knight / 10 Comments

There was a softness in the morning light. A feeling of calm, of peace, of hope.

Overnight, frost had painted the sleeping trees. The waking sun casually spashed soft pastels onto the canvas of clouds rolling by.

She abandoned her coffee, pulled on her boots and jacket, and opened the door. The air was crisp, refreshing — it helped clear the fog of the week’s heaviness from her mind.

She wandered through the yard, paused to watch the sunrise, admired the white crystals coating the landscape. How lucky she was to be surrounded by this beauty. To have calm envelope her, while the world seemed to swirl in chaos and uncertainty.

She raised her camera with hopes of capturing not only the view, but the feeling, the emotion of the moment. She couldn’t change the world, but maybe, just maybe, she could brighten someone’s day by sharing this soothing view. And if nothing else, she would be documenting the memory for herself. A photo to look back on, to recreate that feeling whenever she needed it.

The Homestead

/ Sandi Knight / 4 Comments

A Postcard Story

As she ran her fingers over the worn and weathered logs, she knew she had found the homestead — her grandmother’s birthplace. Sarah could feel the presence of her ancestors here. The roof log of the tool shed had collapsed, but the four walls stood proud among the trees and long grass. She admired the dovetail construction — such perfection, such strength.

To the west of the tool shed were remnants of the ice house. She imagined her grandmother running barefoot through the grass, sent to retrieve milk or butter from the cool building on a hot summer’s day.

Sarah wandered through the overgrown yard site. Large leaves and a tinge of red in bright green grass beckoned her back towards the road. Rhubarb! Was the garden once here? The house couldn’t have been far away.

She continued her search and found the stone foundation where the house once stood. It had been gone for so long, a victim to fire. A gust of wind, a long curtain and a coal-oil lamp. Destruction was swift, the effect devastating and life on this piece of land never the same. Tears welled up as she imagined the horror of that day.

For now, she needed to get to the task at hand. She had promised to take pictures. She had promised to bring back a stone from the foundation. She had promised she wouldn’t cry. But tears overtook her. She sat down, head in her hands and wept.

I’ve been going through old stories trying to re-ignite my creative writing. This one was inspired by a visit to my great-grandparent’s homestead near Willowbrook, Saskatchewan in August 2010.