Cover photo: Brian Michael Barbeito.

Barns, an old gas station made new, two churches, cows and boats and the lake behind — a walk at the edge of the sprawl in southern Ontario.

Prose and photograph by Brian Michael Barbeito

Setting out the ways turned and there was a pastoral field full of beautiful verdant grounds, and they sat forever under the aqua azure skies. Then some barns and more and more. Green. Pale blue. Red. Even a yellow one. On concrete forms and some had windows up between the high wood panels.

The old gas station abandoned made new and opened. I don’t know how I feel about it all because truth be told, the way it is to current to travel, one needs petrol, one needs that gas station, and isn’t a new one quite clean and understandable and convenient? This is where thinking about housing, stores, et al., can’t on the one hand be over idealistic where one says, ‘It’s all too much, stop,’ or, ‘Go ahead, no holes barred,’ for there will be a complete unpleasant concrete jungle…

Two brick churches, some kind of Protestant or nondenominational one saying, on the front sign,

ALL ARE WELCOME

Then a field of cows, one of old boats. The great and sure trees beyond…imagine the deer, coyotes, wildflowers. Make sure to not spend much time there without a hat or sunglasses and preferably both, and suntan lotion to protect. It gets incredibly hot these days. Maybe it always was like that.

But, research into the current tick problem in Ontario and perhaps other parts of the world, often say it’s when things go more warm due to global warming, that the ticks, dangerous, live more and thrive. Also, due to development they are not as hidden in forests as they were. These are natural consequences to human development. Not a carbon footprint as they call it if you will, but a heavy-footed-tick-allowing footprint. This is more localized and can give a person Lime Disease.

Watch and listen to the wind sway over the tall grasses. The lake is back there. Yes, the old lake the locals know best. But the world for better or worse is changing. The reason is because urban sprawl is being built. That’s the way it goes. People will have to adjust. I don’t live there in the new or old, so it doesn’t affect me quite as much.

I try to just pass through.

Chip truck. Moss on fallen tree. Old thrift store. Maybe there are treasures there. Vastness. Vast. Vast spaces. It can get really quiet, meditative. There is a ferry that goes across the lake to an island. It is white and blue. Maybe one day I’ll get to go on it. Take pictures. Write journals. About the water. But for now, it’s land. Horses. Ranch. Farm. Old bungalow houses brick nondescript but look structurally sound. Nice. Nice to see the old-time roads, dwellings lakes, stores…especially in a world becoming too fancy, flashy, fast.

Long live the pastoral field and the clear infinite seeming sky.

Long live the day dreamer poet standing on field perimeter thinking of words and birds, of life and love, of clouds and cicada sounds. That is before the busy urban developer with clip board and man on large machine ready to trample the lands asks him to, ‘Please move out of the way sir, we have work to do.’

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About the author

Brian Michael Barbeito is a Canadian poet and photographer residing in the Southern Ontario area.