Walk on Grass

It may appear by the frequency of my posts that all I'm doing is sitting in front of the computer. Far from it. This has been great to reflect on my thoughts and experiences in a semi public forum though.

I went to the local Legion with a bunch of the guys from school last night. These are some great dudes. There's the feller from Iceland (Stenny) who's never seen Sigur Ros or Bjork. What?! He comes from a town of 5000 in the North. There are only five hundred thousand people on the whole island. That's like Calgary in 1982. He says everyone knows everyone. Actually played in marching band with the keyboard player from Sigur Ros. He's in the process of building a hollow body baritone guitar. Pretty sweet, hey Pete?

This is Stenny...

Tonight, I went to a local's house (Cory) to watch Ultimate Fighting Wrestling or whatever you call it. What a mess that is. His wife (Jess) made veggie lasagna.

To a prairie boy, the ocean is a mysterious thing. When the tide went out this morning it left on the shore giant sheets of seaweed that then dried to a crisp in the afternoon sun. I felt guilty walking on it because it was obvious that it was so full of life. Guess it's the same as walking on grass. Any of the locals watching me must have been scratching their heads because anytime I saw a new kind of sea veggie I'd pick it up, turn it over in my hands and smell it.

Watching the sunset tonight listening to Sigur Ros on my ipod, those sheets floated to the surface drawing bugs to feast...which brought the fish, small and nimble, by the hundreds skipping across the water just feet from shore. Seriously, there were hundreds (not exaggerating) plunging from beneath the water to sail through the air sometimes two to three feet before plunking below.

Adam just showed up at my door. We're trading songs with each other. Time to go.