Flying high, rainbows in the sky. My brothers all around me as we partake in manly competitions of strength under the blistering afternoon sun. Win or lose, it does not matter just the friendship and fellowship matters. Sharing a word of encouragement here, a touch of gossip there. Life couldn't get any better.
SNAP! The feathered tip of the school master's cane smacks down before me, jolting me out of bliss. My eyes open. Crash, back to reality. Wiping sleep dust from my weary eyes, a cascade of sights and sounds attack me with ruthless intent. Words that baffle me are thrown as often as arrows in war time. CONFUSION. Still adjusting to the return to reality. The break wasn't enough...
I find myself floating back on the metaphorical cloud 9. Birds a singing, bees a buzzing, my brothers around me once again. All fear, anxiety and stress vanish as time within the beautiful flower grove grinds to a halt.
CRACK! Back to reality once again. The teacher's white board marker smacking me in the face. It hurt. Gathering my strength, I straighten my back hoping to be able to get a good look at the nonsensical symbols and numbers spiralling around the board before my vision. It doesn't do any good...
Back in the grove. The peace and quiet stirs the heart. The lack of intent of deadlines of need wash over my still body. Refreshing.
BANG! My head strikes the table as my face slips from my cupped hands. Crap... It really is time to get back to reality...
I'm still feeling in limbo. Neither here nor there. Neither ready to embrace the onrushing tide of homework, nor willing to turn my back and oppose it. This is one problem I face every year. The conclusion of the canoeing season. It leaves one so... abruptly. Trying to adjust to the pressures and work of a student's life, yet the love and peace of a sport always remains embedded in my mind. Torn.
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