Although neither my wife nor I are much for wine, we were in British Columbia (Canada)’s Okanagan Valley, so vineyards were what we were exploring. At the moment, we were standing near the pyramid at Summerhill Winery, near the city of Kelowna and visiting with a man from the East Coast of Canada.
We had been married for less than two weeks and were therefore much too busy enjoying being tourists together to worry about trifling things such as the news. So when this man told us that because of events in the United States, his flight had been cancelled, I was understandably confused. “What could possibly happen,” I wondered aloud, “in the United States that would ground flights here in Canada?” It was now the turn of the man from the Maritimes to be confused. “You haven’t heard?”
We quickly returned to our hotel to confirm that this man’s story was indeed true – a continent away – as close as my heart, an event that would later be known simply as “Nine Eleven” had forever changed the world
a small sparrow falls
less than a penny in worth –
tears of God descend
at dVerse, we are writing haibun based on our own travel experiences. The above story is my least favourite experience of travel, but certainly one of the ones that I remember most vividly (at least certain aspects of it)