Looking out from the Railroad Bridge on Mumford Road

I went walking in west end Halifax tonight. A clear August evening that reminds you summer is limited. It's leaving. You only get a few perfect days like this.

All my good neighbours are in hiding. Perhaps "cocooning" with their families; or have they merely escaped the city for just one more summer weekend? And I stop and look out over the railroad bridge on Mumford Road...at the cranes in the cove to the south, at the trees and the one guy with his blue bag gathering recyclables. I take a deep breath and taste no salt, and that tells me it will be cool tonight.

As usual, I pause at the graveyard and talk with my old friend Eileen, where she rests amid generations of working class Catholics and the watery home of victims of the Titanic. And in the silence, she tells me "we're doing okay. The fight we fought continues and we will do better." I snort and confess my skepticism, and she tells me "skepticism is good but never be cynical." But we have had this conversation every week for ten years, and still the sense of loss weighs so heavily. Is this what aging is about?

I walk across the transit plaza. Rushing towards the departing buses are a young family; he leading the way, she, wearing a veil and pushing a stroller, ten paces behind. A group of young Tamil males consult their cell phones and try to figure out the routes. A native elder with incredibly long hair and weary eyes climbs aboard the Number 14. Two young men, oblivious to the rest of the world kiss. I breathe deeply again and try not to think that I am merely caught in a Bruce Cockburn song.

I do the sidewalk dance with the guy coming towards me..."keep right" seems to work. I think of the morning and evening strolls I have so enjoyed in New York, Montreal and countless other cities and catch a small--yes it is so small--vibe of being in the world, even here in Halifax.

I ask myself if I will ever find my place. If the poor kid from Southwest Nova Scotia will ever really find comfort--in the words of a wise man I once knew, "be comforted rather than comfortable...". And decide yes, in this moment, I fit in my own skin. After all, it's August.