A Bad Day With A Camera

Searching for Yggdrasill

My childhood was not all that one would hope for. There were troubles. I had and still have a very active imagination, and I used it as a child to escape my daily life through daydreams. I went deep into subjects that were both intricate and distracting, and that I could find bits and pieces of in the world around me.

He who plants a tree loves others than himself, Lambert Park, Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28
Some men go through a forest and see no firewood,
Lambert Park, Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28
Trees are poems that Earth writes upon the sky,
Lambert Park, Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28

One of my loves was Norse mythology. I used to know a lot about it back in the day. I had even read the Poetic Edda on my own by age ten because it involved Norsemen. That surprised the heck out of my junior high ELA teacher who could not otherwise get me to demonstrate an interest in poetry.

Time spent amongst trees is never wasted time, Lambert Park,
Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28

I would often find the most twisted and gnarled tree in a park and lie under it, looking up through its branches into the sky. I would imagine that it was Yggdrasill and that I could see its roots extending to Urðarbrunnr,  Hvergelmir, and Mímisbrunnr. It was an escape.

When the tree is fallen, all go with their hatchet, Lambert Park, Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28

An ash I know there stands,
Yggdrasill is its name,
a tall tree, showered
with shining loam.
From there come the dews
that drop in the valleys.
It stands forever green over
Urðr’s well.

~ Völuspá

And let the bark grow over it, Lambert Park,
Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28

My world is now a much brighter place, and the only escaping I need to do is to step outside with a camera and explore the bounty that has been laid out for my lens to feast on. But, once in a while, I do like to stop and enjoy the trees. To look, listen, and hear the wind shaking the leaves…

Trees give peace to the souls of men, Lambert Park, Strathmore, Alberta, 2024-02-28

…and to imagine Dáinn, Dvalinn, Duneyrr, and Duraþrór as they play in the branches of Yggdrasill amongst the Nine Worlds.

Note: All images in this diary entry were captured by my Bonzart Ziegel, which was mocked by a passing teen. “Is that really a camera he asked?” “Are those really pants?” I fired back. (What I presume was the crotch was hanging between his knees, after all.)

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© 2024 Sean D. McCormick

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