Click: true moments collected over the years. Stories too short for the stage.
I am thinking about peak oil. (She thinks WAY too much about peak oil.) I am thinking about peak oil and the bees vanishing and the drip drip of glaciers slowly melting in the hot sun. (Maybe everyone her age gets scared of the end of the world. I mean, look at 1970. They didn’t think we’d make it to the 80s, much less to the millenium.) I’m at the park, sitting on the ground, winding yarn. Late autumn sun and trees making stripes across the grass. (Which you’d think would be cheering, but apparently not.) Seven people are standing under the canopy of an old maple tree. Playing electronic guitars, violins, keyboards. Harmonies swooping like birds above them. (See? LOVELY.) They aren’t even using a generator. Just two people on stationary bicycles. Pedalling gently. (Silently.) A little girl, maybe 4 years old, is dancing shyly on the edges of the maple tree. The lead singer beckons her into the centre and now she is part of the wondrous spectacle. (No one in the crowd is holding a phone, or an iPad.) This could be nineteen eighty five. (This could be nineteen seventy five.) This could be nineteen SIXTY five! (This could be… the future.)
I am thinking about what happens after peak oil. About how – when there’s no more electricity or cars and December is so hot the sweat drips off us like water – (This could be… the future.)
And maybe we’ll all sit on the ground, listening to people-powered music. Four year olds dancing like swallows and the harmonies weaving a story above the crowd.
(This… this could be the future.)
Clicks are also posted every Monday and Wednesday on the Sage Tyrtle Tumblr site.
Photo Diego Silvestre