I think I have mentioned this before, but in case not, the town I currently live in, Leamington, Ontario, is known as the Tomato Capitol of Canada. There’s a huge Heinz processing plant at the heart of the town, and acres and acres of farmland and greenhouse fanning out into the surrounding countryside (except for the lake, of course). Farmers bring their tomato harvest in with big tractors pulling tandem trailers piled high with ripe red fruit, on their way to weigh in and off-load and go back for more. It never fails, a number of tomatoes fall off, and end up rolling towards the curbs; some get run over by traffic in the process. Either way, the streets of Leamington are very colorful this time of year. Driving around these days, it can smell either spicy or soupy, depending on what they’re making that day. Never fails to make me hungry.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.