Fragments Gallery
Reflections: Through Time
It has been a while since I last made a note in this journal. I had begun to think that maybe I had lost my "gift" if that is indeed what it is. For the last few weeks it has been as though the past was closed to me as I have seen nothing out of the ordinary. Thankfully that trend has now been broken; or maybe not so thankfully. After all this could just prove to be my insanity.
Anyways, this morning I left my small neighborhood and drove to a small park near a town north of my own, a journey taking a couple hours. I was seeking inspiration; seeking something which could instill some ideas for my current projects. So I found myself in this park at five in the evening.
I was considering my projects when I looked up and saw a jogger heading towards me along the gravel trail before my bench. At first nothing struck me as odd, I mean why should it? A jogger in the evening? That was more than common place. I discounted him from my thoughts as he continued to approach me. When he passed I first noticed that something was wrong. You see he was completely silent as he went by. I couldn't hear a single footfall or laboured breath.
I looked at him again then and I noticed another oddity. He seemed semitransparent. He was solid enough though that I could only notice his lack of substance when he was up close. The man was in his thirties I think, but his running uniform looked like an outfit I would have expected to see over seventy years ago. I think he was another reflection of the past.
I watched him leave my sight and then thought to record my findings. I may have begun too soon however, there seems to be another reflection coming…
It was another reflection that just passed me by. It's odd though. It was another jogger; actually I think it was the same jogger. This time however he was older, at least four or five years older by the amount of grey that has crept into his hair. I have never before seen multiple reflections featuring the same man. There may be something odd about this park. Maybe something that makes it easier for me to see into the past? I don't know. I'm not really even too sure about how this gift of mine works.
This reflection had the same story as the younger version of it, the outfit had changed a little but the jogger just jogged by. The man himself, as I mentioned before, is older; older and more haggard and yet still hale. His expression as he passed me by was neutral.
I must admit, now I am curious about this jogger. I think I will stay for a while longer.
I have seen the man go by twice more, each time he has been older; his hair is now fully grey. He is coming towards me again but this time something is different. There is another jogger with him. A young man, he can't be more than fifteen. The older man is taking it easy for the youngers sake. They run for a bit and walk for a bit. As they grow closer I can see the resemblance between them. Father and son I would assume.
They have just passed me by. The look on the father's face as he watched his son struggles to keep going was one of great pride. Even now he feigns a look of pain and slows down to a walk. His son follows suite; he is too determined to stop on his own. He doesn't want to be the one slowing his father down. They continue on and are soon lost from sight. They will be back soon. I’m sure of it.
The next few times they have run by sometimes the son had been with and sometimes not. As time went on the son seems to be with more frequently. The father was definitely slowing down while the son, now in his high twenties to low thirties, was still going steady. The son now slowed down for his father.
The pair obviously loved to run and they never seemed to run alone. Through rain and snow still they ran this path, I can sometimes see them soaked by the rain or sleet. Sometimes they run separate, their faces stony and unhappy but they are never too far apart.
Occasionally they are joined by a young lady around the son's age. By the affectionate look she and the son exchange I would assume that they are in a relationship of some sort. Of course there is no way to be sure.
This time round the son is coming through alone. He looks haggard and worried. He is so distracted by his thoughts that he stumbles, something I have not seen him do since the earlier reflections. He passes beyond my sight. I look behind him waiting for his father to come running up the bend, maybe they had been fighting so they were running separate again. Long after the son has gone I found myself staring towards the beginning of the path hoping that the old man would appear.
Eventually the son appears again. The young lady is with him. They are running together, she keeps casting worried looks at him of which he seems oblivious. As they grow closer I see that he has tears running down his face and she has the small gems at the edge of her eyes.
When they reach me the son stops and sinks onto my bench. She does the same. She says a few words which he responds to. I really wish I could read lips; then I would know what they were saying. She hugs him, encasing him in her arms as he shudders with silent sobs. I can't watch any more. Instead I stare at my journal, tears slithering across my nose. I can only think that the father must be gone.
I don't know how many times they have run by me now. The son still comes consistently, sometimes she accompanies him and sometimes she doesn't. They are growing older. After a while he is sometimes accompanied by a boy. His son I would assume. Unlike before, this son goes with him infrequently. Around the time his son seems to reach twenty he disappears. The new father tends to look tired and sad as he continues to grow older.
This time it is truly like I am seeing a ghost. The man heading towards me is real. He bears much resemblance to the man I originally saw. His feet pound against the ground as he draws closer. He glances and nods at me as he goes by. I can only stare back at him in awe.
How much time had I just seen pass?
I waited for a while but the reflections seem to have ended once I had caught up with the present. No surprise there I guess.
I might as well leave then. I have much to think about.