Doombus Omnibus

I guess I'd said to some people that I would be blogging this trip. Well, who am I to predict the future? I have not blogged.

And in any case, this was never visioned to be the kind of place where the events of a day are listed and regurgitated. No, this is the Doombus. And so, I will regale nobody with tales of flight delays, rainy walks through Calgary, hot-springing in the dense fog of the Rockies at Banff, or even the many exciting aches and pains I accumulated in time to be a bed-ridden mess for most of my birthday. I will mention this no more (except in person, to those who ask).

Nor will I tell you that I have been musing about the differences between Canada and the States or about the results of those musings. Even, I won't go into detail about how the small mountain town of Kamloops is our age's manifestation of Mordor and how it almost destroyed both Dina and myself (but me moreso).

What I will write is that every time I've thought about doing this very thing that I now doing, namely blogging, it's seemed the wrong thing to do in some sense. Sort of like it sometimes seems wrong to take a photograph, in that it makes one lose one's moment-presence and instead relies on the mediation of the picture to relate to the experience.

I haven't taken very many pictures on the trip so far.

The skies in Vancouver are gray and pregnant. Something will come of this, surely.