Mounds

Tom decided to cover the molehills with dirt and gravel until they started to look like mounds. Talk about making a mountain out of a molehill!

Before the building of school grounds, an area near my home on Lulu Island was mounds of dirt. There was an impromptu bike track. Wild red poppies grew. I would fantasize that amongst the mounds were Star Wars' Jawas.

On the 22nd of March of 2022, I went to the pizzeria twice, in the morning and in the afternoon. I went to the cafe to have Strawberry Coconut Drink in the crowded afternoon. Sitting at different, but proximate tables, were Don, a white man with glasses, and Chen, a stocky Chinese. They were talking. Don was about the same age group as my younger brother Paolo; both went to Rideau Elementary School, whilst I went to Errington Elementary School. I remembered that the Rideau school field was just mounds of dirt with an impromptu mountain bike circulating racetrack. There were red poppies growing. I imagined Star Wars' Jawas lurking in the mounds. It was the late 1970s.

The mounds built by native people 1400–800 years ago were used for ceremonial purposes that remain a mystery.

I deem myself lucky that in my childhood, there was always some kind of wilderness to explore. In the Philippines, there was the Martianesque red-soil vastness of Don José Heights in Quezon City. In BC, there were the dirt mounds on the unbuilt school grounds of Rideau Park on Lulu Island. Red poppies grew in the brown earth. It was then the debut of the Star Wars franchise; I imagined Jawas might have lurked in the mounds. There were impromptu mountain bike tracks in the mounds.