Sometimes it all feels
as if it is a dream,
all of this crouching
over keyboards,
huddled, alone and isolated
in our little rooms.

Tapping away,
a steady and rhythmic
bid to communicate, 
while adrift in an ocean
of concrete, and fear,
and carefulness.

I always hope
to wake from this dream,
sad and a little frightened,
but relieved
that I am back again

in a comfortable village
of independent people, 
ruling themselves and
living their lives

with warmth
and a firm clasp of shoulders.

Ears wagging in joy,
as the shouts and screams
of children
reverberate
over the sand, dirt,
and cobblestones.

For there I am
in better control
of my destiny,

with influence
and benevolent company
warm in their respect
for my kind regard.

Lucky, is it not?

That I am not seeking solace
in front of a glowing,
blinking screen
with characters
arranged in a fashion
that is almost too cunning.

Tapping away,
greeting and meeting,
or failing to do either

Until my hunger ebbs
and my determination wilts.

Then I would push
the keyboard forward
rise from my chair
and fire up my more
beautiful machine.

In a glorious flash
of noise and vibration,
I shatter the night sky
with the wildest feelings of
imminent reality
that I am permitted

crashing past buildings and cars
as white hot energy
riding and riding away

to return one day
crouched and
tap, tap, tapping
until my luck changes
or my spirit refuses
to take it anymore.

- Peter de Groot

Found...in the van
October 16, 2014

Peter was born the eldest of seven children to Wilhelmina J.C. Megens (1944-2013) and Petrus M. C. de Groot in Orillia, Ontario. In his youth he read books voraciously and loved the outdoors: trapping, riding his motorcycle, and swimming.
He attended Brock High School in Cannington, On and Carleton University in Ottawa for Journalism and then Political Science. After receiving his BA Honours degree in 1992, he attended the University of Western Ontario where he completed his Masters in Political Theory.

In the summer of 1993, Peter had a construction accident and a first aneurysm. It went undiagnosed at Soldiers Memorial Hospital in Orillia. He deferred his acceptance to Purdue University for his PhD, as his health started to mysteriously decline. He was sent home from hospital repeatedly and told nothing more could be done.

He travelled to Colorado Springs and Mexico to seek treatment. He moved to Victoria, BC. He wrote a book, The Globalization Alternative: A Gentle Revolution. Peter poured his intelligence, humour, and love into it. He had significantly improved his health - he could walk, swim and drive. He enjoyed being independent. Living in Victoria, he took Master's classes at the University of Victoria. In the summer of 1997 he had a second traumatic brain aneurysm.

Doctors were amazed Peter survived. Brain surgery was scheduled with 50/50 odds of survival . Peter endured numerous post-op seizures, breaking ribs, his collarbone and his back. 

Peter committed to regaining his health. He traveled to BC’s interior and into California. He kept returning to the Kootenays. In Nelson, he fell in love. Now part of a couple, he travelled to Europe and within Canada, eventually settling in Smithers, BC. Peter bought his first cow in Smithers and continued to acquire other farm animals. He thrived in BC’s north country, living there for six years.

The winters were too cold for his animals. Peter decided to move back to the Slocan Valley where one of his good friends still lived. He drove himself and his animals to Slocan and rented a place across from the Slocan River bordered by the Valhalla mountains. He was happy there until 2014.