Winter in Muskoka, Richard Karon

TOM THOMSON AND THE SPIRIT OF NATURE

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

THE SOFT AFTERNOON LIGHT MAKES THE SNOWSCAPE, HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, APPEAR ALMOST SILKEN; A LOW LUSTER HUE, AGAINST DULL GREEN AND GREY SKY, THAT LOOKS TO HAVE BEEN SMOOTHLY APPLIED BY STEADY HAND, AND THE WEAVING, OVER AND THROUGH, OF AN ARTIST'S BRUSH. AND IT IS WARM ENOUGH TODAY THAT THE MELT WATER HAS BEEN DRIPPING DOWN ONTO THE RASPBERRY CANES IN FRONT OF MY WINDOW. I HAVE BEEN READING FOR ABOUT AN HOUR NOW, POKING THROUGH MY ART BOOKS, AND OCCASIONALLY LOOKING UP TO SEE HOW ATTRACTIVE THE SCENE APPEARS, FURTHER OUT ON THE BOG. ABOUT AN HOUR AGO NOW, SEVERAL DEER AMBLED ALONG THE RIDGE, ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE CATTAIL BASIN.

IT WAS KNOWN, BY THOSE CLOSE TO THE ARTIST, THAT HE WOULD BECOME QUITE WITHDRAWN FROM SOCIAL OCCASION, WHEN A PARTICULAR MOOD ENVELOPED HIM. A STORM-FRONT MOVING OVER THE LAKELAND, SEEMED TO DRAW HIM INTO ITS DARK, LOFTY CURRENTS. HE WOULD GET AS CLOSE TO IT, AS HE COULD, ALMOST AS IF HE WANTED TO UNDERSTAND IT FROM A SPIRITUAL PERSPECTIVE, MORE THAN SIMPLY ITS SCIENTIFIC, CLIMACTIC PROFILE. HIS WAS THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE ARTIST, WHO PAINTED AS IF HE UNDERSTOOD THOSE SOFT, WHISPERING VOICES WITHIN NATURE, AND RESPECTED THEIR SAGE ADVICE.

WHEN CANADIAN LANDSCAPE ARTIST, TOM THOMSON PAINTED THE NORTHERN LIGHTS, FOR EXAMPLE, HE WOULD VENTURE OUT TO SOME DARK AND ISOLATED LOCATION, IN THE BITTER COLD, AND SLIDE DOWN INTO THE BEST POSITION TO WATCH THE MAGICAL LIGHTS WAVERING OVER THE HILLS AND VALLEYS; THE THICK FORESTS BORDERING THE SHIMMERING LAKELAND. HE WAS DELIGHTED THEN, WHEN SOMEONE SAW HIS ART PANELS, AND MADE COMMENTS ABOUT THEIR HAUNTING, LONELY AND COLD QUALITIES. HE REACTED THE SAME WHEN THE YOUNG DAUGHTER OF A PARK RANGER, ONE DAY, COMMENTED ON THE COLORATIONS USED BY THOMSON, IN A DEPICTION OF A WILDFLOWER FROM A NEARBY MEADOW. THE FACT THE CHILD THOUGHT HE HAD BEEN PARTICULARLY ACCURATE WITH THE HUE AND SHADING OF THE COLOR, IMPRESSED HIM GREATLY. WHEN ON ANOTHER OCCASION, A PARK RANGER, APPROACHED HIM, WHILE PAINTING A SCENE ON ALGONQUIN'S SMOKE LAKE, AND SAID THAT THE ART WORK WAS AN ALMOST PERFECT DEPICTION OF THE LANDSCAPE IN FRONT, THOMSON NOT ONLY INVITED HIM TO STAY AND HAVE SOME FRESHLY BAKED BLUEBERRY PIE, HE GAVE HIM THE ART PANEL AS WELL. THOMSON WANTED TO REPRESENT THE TRUE EARTHLY DYNAMIC OF THE SUBJECT LANDSCAPE, AND ITS NATURAL QUALITIES AND QUANTITIES, AND WHILE NOT CREATING PHOTOGRAPHIC IMAGES, IT WAS STILL IMPORTANT FOR THOSE LOOKING AT HIS WORK, TO FEEL THE ART REMINDED THEM, OF THE OCCASION THEY, FIRST WITNESSED THE LANDSCAPE. THE PARTICULAR LIGHT OF THE DAY, THE SKY, THE CONDITION OF THE WATER, THE WIND, OR LACK OF……REFLECTIVE OF THAT STRANGE, ALLURING SENSE OF SOLITUDE, MOODINESS OR SPIRITUALITY IT ALL MIGHT HAVE INSPIRED; SPIRITED BY THE OSMOSIS OF IMAGINATION, BY BRUSH AND PAINT, ON A ROUGH BIRCH PANEL.

WHEN I BEGAN WRITING SHORT FEATURE ARTICLES ABOUT MUSKOKA ARTIST, RICHARD KARON, BACK IN THE EARLY 1980'S, IT WAS BECAUSE WE HAD SOMETHING UNUSUAL IN COMMON. AS HIS FUTURE BIOGRAPHER, I'M GOING BACK ON A LOT OF THOSE EARLY PIECES, TRYING TO RE-ASSESS MY EARLY INTRIGUE ABOUT HIS SUBJECT MATTER. I MENTIONED THIS RECENTLY TO HIS SON, ALSO NAMED RICHARD, THAT MOST ARTISTS WORKING IN MUSKOKA TODAY, TEND TO HABITUALLY STUDY THE MAJOR LAKES FOR THEIR ART PANELS. RICHARD KARON SEEMED DIFFERENT IN THIS REGARD, PREFERRING TO PROFILE AREAS OF THE REGIONAL LANDSCAPE, THAT WEREN'T QUITE AS PICTURESQUE AS THE LARGE LAKE PANORAMAS. ALSO IN TERMS OF POPULARITY AND MARKET PLACE, PAINTING THE MAJOR MUSKOKA LAKES WAS GOOD BUSINESS, JUST AS IT REMAINS TODAY. IT WAS KARON'S CHOICE, HOWEVER, TO LOOK AT THE LESS VISITED, SELDOM PROFILED, NATURAL NOOKS AND CRANNIES HERE IN THE ONTARIO HINTERLAND. WHILE IT WASN'T UNIQUE TO HIM ALONE, HE SAW SOMETHING IN THESE WILD, OFTEN OVERGROWN, HIDDEN PLACES, THAT DESERVED HIS ATTENTION.

ON MOTOR TRIPS AROUND THE MUSKOKA LAKES AND LAKE OF BAYS, I WOULD OFTEN POINT OUT INTERESTING BOGS AND OVERGROWN INLETS OF LARGE PONDS, AND NARROW RIVERSIDES, THAT LOOKED SO DARK AND MYSTERIOUS, AND SAY TO SUZANNE, "THAT LOOKS LIKE A RICHARD KARON PAINTING." HE DIDN'T EMBELLISH THESE LITTLE POCKETS OF NATURAL BEAUTY, AND YET HE MADE THE PATRON AWARE, THAT THERE WAS A LOT MORE TO THE LAKELAND, THAN THE SPARKLING, WAVEY WATERS OF THE GIANT LAKE OF BAYS, OF LAKES ROSSEAU, MUSKOKA AND JOSEPH. HE SAW SOMETHING UNIQUE AND IMPORTANT IN THOSE TANGLED GARDENS, OF EVERGREEN AND LEANING BIRCHES, THAT WARRANTED HIS STUDIES. WHILE OTHER ARTISTS PREFERRED THE COMMERCIAL VALUE OF PAINTING POPULAR SCENES, KARON MADE IT DIFFICULT ON HIMSELF, BECAUSE HE WANTED TO FIND THE LEAST STUDIED, MOST UNUSUAL, OTHERWISE HIDDEN WONDERS, HIS CONTEMPORARIES HADN'T BOTHERED LOOKING FOR. HE WOULD SPEND HOUR UPON HOUR TRAVERSING AND PORTAGING HIS CANOE, LOOKING FOR THESE SPIRITED, BEAUTIFUL LITTLE POCKETS OF NATURAL PARADISE, AND SHOWING THOSE TRULY INTERESTED IN MUSKOKA, AND ONTARIO, THAT PICTURESQUE, AND UNIQUE VISTAS ARE WORTH SEEKING OUT, KEENLY AS ADVENTURES OF DISCOVERY. HE WASN'T AFRAID TO TAKE THOSE DARK, ISOLATED BOGLANDS, TO FIND THE LIFE FORCES THRIVING WITHIN, WELL DESERVING OF THE REFLECTION HE COULD PROVIDE BY PAINT AND BRUSH, AND THE BOLD PASSION TO REPRESENT NATURE'S TRUE MYSTERIES……BY SUBTLE, GENTLE INTRUSION.

WHEN I WANDER OVER TO THE BOG, NOW AND AGAIN, I WILL OFTEN THINK TO MYSELF, THIS IS A SCENE RICHARD KARON WOULD HAVE LIKED. HE AND I MIGHT HAVE TRUNDLED DOWN THIS TANGLED HILLSIDE, AND FOLLOWED THE SOUND OF THE TINY INVISIBLE CREEKS, NOW ENCASED IN WINTER ICE. AND WANDER THROUGH THIS LOWLAND, BREAKING A NEW TRAIL THROUGH THE ICED-OVER SNOW, LOOKING FOR THE FROTHING CATARACT WE CAN HEAR FROM QUITE A DISTANCE AWAY. WHEN WE GET INTO THE THICKET OF CEDARS AND SPRUCE, WE WILL SEE THE OPEN, FAST WATER, BREAKING BLACK AGAINST THE SNOW, TUMBLING DOWN A SMALL INCLINE OF PROTRUDING STUMPS AND NEWLY FALLEN LIMBS……AND THE CRYSTALLINE CATARACT WILL RESOUND IN THE EVERGREEN ENCLOSURE. I'M SURE, IF WE HAD EVER HAD THIS OPPORTUNITY, HE WOULD HAVE TURNED TO ME, WITH A NOD OF ACKNOWLEDGEMENT, THAT THIS WAS A PLACE OF BOUNTIFUL POTENTIAL, WHERE THE ARTIST WOULD BENEFIT FROM THE GENTLE INTRUSION OF THIS WATERFALL, AND FIND SOLACE IN THE ATMOSPHERE OF NATURAL BEAUTY; THE LIGHT AND SHADOW OF A WINTER DAY, IN A HIDDEN PLACE, EXUDING A SUBTLE CALM, AN UNTOLD SOLITUDE. WE MIGHT HAVE AGREED, AS WRITER AND PAINTER, THIS WAS A PLACE TO STOP AWHILE, TO CELEBRATE ITS ISOLATION, AND PREVAIL UPON ITS INSPIRATION, TO SET ABOUT ITS DEPICTION, IN WORDS AND PAINT.

RICHARD KARON SOUGHT OUT BEAUTIFUL PLACES. NOT BECAUSE THEY WERE HIGHLY VISIBLE, AND EXPANSIVE LAKELAND PANORAMAS. HE NEEDED TO CONNECT WITH THE SPIRIT OF NATURE, AND IT DREW HIM TO THE INTERIOR OF PLACES SIMILAR TO THIS BOGLAND AT BIRCH HOLLOW. HE FOUND AN IMPORTANCE WITH VENERABLE OLD TREES, TALL PINES, LAZY, SPRAWLING CEDARS, AND A STORY WITHIN THE CRESCENT OF LEANING OLD BIRCHES ALONG THE EMBANKMENT, MUCH AS POET ROBERT FROST HAD FOUND, IN HIS WOODLAND JOURNEYS. HE SAW THROUGH THE TANGLE OF TREES AND BRUSH, THE TINY, PRECIOUS SOLITUDES THAT EVADED MOST PASSERSBY. KARON DIDN'T HACK AWAY THE THICKETS TO IMPROVE HIS VIEW, BUT ALMOST SEEMED DESIROUS OF BEING COMPROMISED, AS LONG AS IT WAS THE INTRUSION OF NATURE UPON THE ARTIST. HE HAD A TREMENDOUS RESPECT FOR THE ENVIRONMENT, AND IT SHOWED WITH HIS GENTLE, CAUTIOUS PASSAGE, BY CANOE, AND ON FOOT, TO VISIT THESE CURIOUS PORTALS, WHERE HE COULD LOOK ONTO THE POOLS OF MIRRORING POND, AND HEAR THE CREATURES OF THE WOODLAND, MOVING ABOUT AROUND HIM. AS IMPORTANT TO HIM, WERE THE NATURAL INTERRUPTIONS OF FROGS AND CRICKETS, SNAKES RUSTLING IN THE TALL GRASSES, BIRDS FLITTING ABOUT THE LOW-HANGING BOUGHS, AND THE OLD RACOON AWKWARDLY TUMBLING ABOUT THE FALLEN TREES.

I HAVE HAD PEOPLE COMMENT ABOUT KARON'S PAINTINGS, THE ONES I USED TO HAVE ON DISPLAY IN MY ANTIQUE SHOP, THAT YOU COULD HEAR HIS PAINTINGS…..THE RAIN HITTING THE BIRCH LEAVES, THE SURFACE OF THE WATER, AND FEEL THE WARM SUMMER BREEZE, WAVERING THE CAT-TAILS IN THE LATE AFTERNOONS……HEAR THE DISTANT THUNDER OF AN APPROACHING STORM. I WISH THE ARTIST HAD BEEN ALIVE, THEN, TO HEAR THOSE COMMENTS ABOUT HIS LANDSCAPES.

FOR SEVERAL WEEKS NOW, I HAVE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT MR. KARON, IN PREPARATION FOR THE PRESENTATION OF HIS BIOGRAPHY, IN JUST OVER A MONTH'S TIME. I'VE BEEN LOOKING BACK ON HIS STUDIES OF MUSKOKA, ALGONQUIN, ALMAGUIN AND HALIBURTON, MUCH OF IT TRAVERSED BY CANOE, AND ON FOOT, IN ORDER TO CAPTURE THESE HIDDEN JEWELS OF THE LANDSCAPE. AT TIMES I FEEL AS IF I'M LOOKING OVER HIS SHOULDER, JUDGING WHAT THE ARTIST HAS DETERMINED AS AS WORTHY SCENE TO BEGIN SKETCHING. WHAT AN HONOR THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN. OUR CONVERSATION, SADLY, WAS ONLY EVER IN THE STUDIO, TOWARD THE END OF HIS PAINTING CAREER.

I AM EXCITED ABOUT RE-TRACING THE LIFE AND ART WORK OF THIS WELL KNOWN, AND REVERED CANADIAN PAINTER, WHO FOUND SO MUCH BEAUTY IN HIS HOME TOWNSHIP, OF LAKE OF BAYS, AND THE WIDER MUSKOKA, OF WHICH HE WAS KEENLY ATTACHED.

PLEASE JOIN ME FOR THIS SOON-TO-BE RELEASED BIOGRAPHY, OF ARTIST RICHARD KARON, WHICH WILL BE PUBLISHED ONLINE, VIA MY GRAVENHURST BLOG, WHICH YOU CAN ACCESS BY CLICKING ONTO http://gravenhurstmuskoka.blogspot.com/

Gravenhurst Winter Carnival Theme Song

GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL MUSIC VIDEO SUCCESSFULLY LAUNCHED

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

THE GROUP OF MUSICIANS-FRIENDS, WENT OUT YESTERDAY TO DO SOME VIDEO TAPING AT GRAVENHURST'S GULL LAKE PARK. WHAT AN INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL DAY IT WAS FOR BEING OUTDOORS IN THIS AMAZING REGION OF ONTARIO. THE GROUP I'M REFERRING, IS KNOWN AS "PRESSURE POINT," AND THEY HAVE JUST RECENTLY COMPLETED A NEW SONG, IN SUPPORT OF THE GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL. LATE LAST WEEK, THEY PRESENTED THE FINISHED SONG, TO THE COMMITTEE FOR THEIR PROMOTIONAL USE. NO CHARGE. SO THE WORK YESTERDAY, WAS TO GET SOME FOOTAGE OF SKOKIE, THE CARNIVAL'S OTTER MASCOT, AND MEMBERS OF THE GROUP….AND SIGNIFICANT OTHERS, TO ACCOMPANY THE MUSIC VIDEO, THAT YOU CAN NOW FIND ONLINE, BY CLICKING ONTO http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuwE6cFlRCg

THE GROUP INCLUDES DANI O'CONNOR, AARON BINDER, ANDREW AND ROBERT CURRIE. GUEST VOCALS WERE PROVIDED BY LONG TIME MUSIC-ASSOCIATES, JON O'CONNOR AND RAY PARSONS. THE WINTER CARNIVAL SONG WAS INSPIRED BY OTHER MUSKOKANS, WHO IN THE EARLY 1970'S, ALSO WROTE THEME MUSIC, INCLUDING SONGS BY BRAD AND BONNIE VEITCH, AND HOWARD CABLE AND HIS ORCHESTRA. TOUGH ACTS TO FOLLOW. BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY A PROJECT WHICH DATED BACK TO THE WINTER OF 2010-2011. BUT BECAUSE OF OTHER COMMITMENTS, THE PLAN WAS PUT BACK A YEAR. IT WAS THE HIATUS THE GROUP NEEDED. NOW WITH LEAD SINGER DANI O'CONNOR COMING OFF LOCAL SUCCESSES, SUCH AS THE CHRISTMAS-TIME SONG, "I GOT SOCKS," PLAYED ACTIVELY ON THE MOOSE FM, OVER THE HOLIDAYS, AND HAVING FINISHED A NEW BODY OF WORK READY TO LAUNCH……THE GROUP ADMITS IT WAS THE PERFECT TIME TO WORK ON THE CARNIVAL SONG. IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS, THE NEW RELEASE HAD ENJOYED OVER 100 HITS, AND SOON AFTER THE VIDEO WAS PUBLISHED ONLINE, IT HAD 63 VIEWS. NOT IN THE MILLIONS, AND THERE'S NO CLAIM HERE THAT "IT WENT VIRAL," BUT ROBERT IS PLEASED BY THE EARLY RESPONSE. "WE HOPE IT BRINGS MORE PEOPLE OUT TO THE WINTER CARNIVAL. THAT'S THE OBJECTIVE," HE SAID. "WE LIKE WHAT THE GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL COMMITTEE IS DOING FOR THE WHOLE TOWN, AND WE WANTED TO HELP OUT. SONG WRITING AND PERFORMING IS WHAT WE DO, SO WE SET ASIDE A MONTH TO GET THIS DONE."

"WHILE WE WERE FILMING AT GULL LAKE PARK, A LOT OF PEOPLE WERE WAVING AT SKOKIE, ESPECIALLY THE KIDS, REMEMBERING IT FROM THE PAST TWO CARNIVALS," HE ADDS. "WE DIDN'T WANT TO UPSET ANY OF THESE KIDS, SO WE ASKED IF OUR VOLUNTEER SKOKIE, CHRIS O'CONNOR, COULD WEAR THE SUIT BACK OVER TO THEIR MAIN STREET MUSIC SHOP. IT WAS A LONG WALK AND WE DIDN'T KNOW IF HE WAS GOING TO MAKE IT OR NOT. HE WAS GETTING AWFULLY HOT. IT WAS WILD HOW MANY MOTORISTS WERE HONKING, AND PEOPLE WE MET WERE SAYING HELLO TO SKOKIE, AND TRYING TO SHAKE HIS PAW. WE WERE THRILLED TO BE ABLE TO USE SKOKIE IN THE VIDEO, AND WE HAD A LOT OF FUN FILMING. IT WAS LIKE OUR OWN WINTER CARNIVAL AT GULL LAKE."

ANDREW AND ROBERT GOT HOME LAST NIGHT TOO TIRED TO EAT. NOW FOR OUR BOYS, THAT MEANS THEY'RE TRULY EXHAUSTED. YET THEY WENT RIGHT BACK TO WORK GETTING THE MUSIC VIDEO ONLINE. OF COURSE, THERE WERE A FEW SNAGS. JUST SOME MINOR COMPUTER GLITCHES. IT TOOK MORE THAN AN HOUR TO GET IT PUBLISHED, (I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THIS HIGH TECH STUFF), AND WHEN ROBERT CAME OUT OF OUR OFFICE BEAMING, I KNEW HE WANTED TO DEBUT THE FRUIT OF HIS LABORS. SO WE SPEEDILY GATHERED IN FRONT OF THE COMPUTER, AND WATCHED "PRESSURE POINT", SKOKIE, AND MUSICIAN RAY PARSONS, (IN THE TOP HAT WITH HOCKEY STICK), GIVING THEIR PREAMBLE OF THE WINTER CARNIVAL YET TO COME. THE GROUP HAS BEEN ASKED TO PERFORM THE SONG AT THE OFFICIAL OPENING, IN HERITAGE SQUARE, AT THE OPERA HOUSE (LAST WEEKEND OF FEBRUARY).

WHEN I ASKED THEM IF THEY COULD DO SUCH A SONG, IN LATE DECEMBER, I HAD NO IDEA IT WOULD TAKE UP SO MUCH TIME. I SUPPOSE IT WAS PRETTY IMPOSING OF ME, BUT THEN THEY'RE USED TO IT AFTER ALL THESE YEARS WITH FATHER. I CAN'T KEEP MY OAR OUT OF INTERESTING PROJECTS. IT WAS THE SAME WITH THE BRACEBRIDGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND WOODCHESTER VILLA AND MUSEUM, THE CROZIER FOUNDATION AND THE BRACEBRIDGE SPORTS HALL OF FAME, WHEN ALL HANDS WERE REQUIRED TO MAKE IT WORK. OF COURSE, AS RE-PAYMENT FOR ALL THE HELP THEY'VE GIVEN US, MOM AND POP HAVE BEEN THEIR ROADIES IN THE MUSIC BUSINESS FOR MORE THAN SIX YEARS NOW. WE'RE NOT EVEN YET, BUT GETTING CLOSER. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I'VE ENJOYED ALL THE SHARED PROJECTS WE'VE BEEN INVOLVED OVER THE YEARS, AND HONESTLY, WE COULDN'T HAVE DONE ANY OF IT SUCCESSFULLY, WITHOUT THEIR ENTHUSIASM. WHEN SOMEONE ASKED RECENTLY WHY THEIR MOTHER HAD BEGUN KNITTING WINTER CARNIVAL SCARVES, ANDREW SAID, "IT'S JUST WHAT WE'VE ALWAYS DONE, WHEN ONE OR MORE OF US GET INVOLVED IN A COMMUNITY EVENT." WE'VE HAD A LOT OF PRACTICE. AND OF COURSE, SOMETIMES IT GETS A LITTLE PERPLEXING AND DIFFICULT, BUT WE STAY THE COURSE. THE MOST IMPORTANT REALITY, IS THE FACT WE'VE FOUND SO MANY FRIENDS AND ASSOCIATES OUT THERE, WHO FEEL THE SAME AS WE DO……AND ARE WILLING TO JOIN US, ESPECIALLY FOR THE FUNDRAISING CONCERTS WE'VE PUT ON EACH YEAR. IT'S NOT THE "CURRIE SHOW." IT'S THE "COMMUNITY CONCERT." AND AS THE BOYS LOVE THEIR HOMETOWN, THE EFFORT IS ALWAYS WORTH IT, BECAUSE OF THE FRIENDSHIPS MADE AND REKINDLED EACH SHOW.

"WE'RE LOOKING FORWARD TO THE WINTER CARNIVAL," ADMITS ROBERT. "IT MAKES A LONG, COLD WINTER SEEM A LITTLE WARMER. WE WISH THE WINTER CARNIVAL COMMITTEE A LOT OF LUCK WITH THIS YEAR'S CELEBRATION. HOPE YOU WILL COME OUT AS WELL. MAYBE YOU'D LIKE TO VOLUNTEER. I'M SURE THEY'D BE GLAD TO HAVE THE EXTRA HELP."

FUNNY THING. EACH YEAR THAT WE'VE LIVED HERE IN GRAVENHURST, DATING BACK TO THE WINTER OF 1989, I HAVE SPENT MY WINTERS WRITING…..LARGELY LOOKING OUT THIS OFFICE WINDOW, ONTO THE SNOWY WOODS OF THE BOG. FOR YEARS WORKING WITH THE MUSKOKA SUN, AND OTHER REGIONAL PUBLICATIONS, I WROTE ALL MY SUMMER-SEASON EDITORIAL COPY, DURING THE WINTER MONTHS. THAT WAS TOUGH. EVEN THROUGH THE WILDEST SNOW-STORM, I'D BE WRITING ABOUT CANOEING AND OUTDOOR ADVENTURES……WORKING ON HISTORICAL THEMES LIKE STEAMBOATING ON THE MUSKOKA LAKES, AND ALL KINDS OF SUMMER EDITORIAL COPY WHICH HAD TO BE COMPLETED BY THE END OF MARCH. I'M A LOT MORE SEASON-APPROPRIATE NOW, AND SPEND MOST OF MY TIME, ON WRITING PROJECTS THAT ARE LESS ABOUT WINTER, SPRING, SUMMER OR FALL…..WITH MORE FOCUS ON BIOGRAPHIES INSTEAD. SO I BEGAN WRITING THIS "MUSKOKA AS WALDEN" BLOG, TO MAKE SURE I RECOGNIZE THE GOOD QUALITIES AROUND HERE, THROUGHOUT THE YEAR……A LITTLE SOMETHING EACH DAY, THAT HOPEFULLY REFLECTS MY APPRECIATION FOR THE NATURAL GRACE WE ARE SURROUNDED BY HERE, IN THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. AS DAVID THOREAU CELEBRATED HIS STAY AT WALDEN POND, THIS IS MY OWN REFLECTION, OF A GOOD TIME, AND A WONDERFUL PLACE, IN A SPECIAL ENVIRONS IN THE WORLD. IT'S WHY I FEEL SO EXCITED BY THE WORK OF THE WINTER CARNIVAL COMMITTEE……THAT DRAWS FOLKS INTO THIS AMAZING SEASON, TO PROMOTE THE GOOD LIFE HERE IN GRAVENHURST AND SOUTH MUSKOKA. DEMONSTRATING THE DYNAMIC OF A HOME TOWN TO CELEBRATE ALL THE SEASONS OF THE ROLLING YEAR. I LIKE THAT!

Winter Has Come To Muskoka

THE WINTER HAS FINALLY COMETH -

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

MY MOTHER MERLE, WOULD HAVE LOOKED OUT UPON SUCH A WINTER SCENE, AS THIS MORNING, AND SAY WITH THE SENSE OF EXCEPTION TO ALL ELSE MUDANE, "THIS IS A WINTER WONDERLAND." AND SHE WOULD MEAN IT, BUT BE UNABLE TO NAVIGATE THE ICY CONDITIONS, ON THE WALKWAYS, WITH HER WONKY HIP. BUT SHE ALWAYS WANTED TO SHARE HER FEELINGS, ABOUT WHAT MADE WINTER IN MUSKOKA, BETTER THAN ANY OTHER PLACE ON EARTH. I WOULD CONCUR WITH HER THIS MORNING. IT IS INDEED, A SPECTACULAR SCENE HERE ACROSS FROM THE SNOW-LADEN BOG.

IT IS A PERFECT DAY TO TOSS A COUPLE OF LOGS ON, AND NESTLE BY THE HEARTH……UNLESS OF COURSE, YOU FIND IT THE PERFECT OCCASION FOR SNOWSHOES, TO GET OUT INTO THE MIDST OF THIS PARTICULARLY ENTICING PANORAMA OF ENCHANTMENT. FOR ME IT IS A GOOD DAY TO SIT BY THIS WINDOW, AND WATCH THE WINDBLOWN SNOW SWIRL OVER BIRCH HOLLOW, AND FIND SOMETHING OR OTHER TO WRITE ABOUT. THIS WILL BE NO PROBLEM, AS THIS IS A SCENE THAT PERPETUATES THE KIND OF INSPIRATION WRITERS REQUIRE…….TO COMMAND THE FINGERS TO DO MORE THAN TWIDDLE. I SHALL HAVE TO EMPLOY THE SERVICES OF OUR LADS, ANDREW AND ROBERT, TO CLEAR THE DRIVEWAY LATER THIS MORNING, BUT AS THE SNOW IS LIGHT AND THE WIND HAS BLOWN MOST OF IT FREE FROM THE LANE, OVER THE PAST HOUR, I WILL GLADLY MAKE THEM THE HOT CHOCOLATE AS REPAYMENT.

JUST WHEN WE EXPECTED WINTER HAD BEEN RETIRED EARLY, THIS SEASONAL BLUSTER PREVAILED, COMMENCING YESTERDAY AFTERNOON. IT HAS BLOWN AGAINST THE HOUSE WITH GREAT VIOLENCE, OVER NIGHTS, AND THERE ARE DRIFTS SCULPTED AGAINST THE HOUSE NOW…..ONE BEAUTIFUL CREATION, NOW PRESSING UP AGAINST MY OFFICE WINDOW. IT IS A COMPELLING SCENE UNFOLDING, AS THE STILL VIGOROUS WIND KNOCKS THE SNOW CLUMPS OFF THE CLUSTER OF RASPBERRY CANES AND LILACS IN THE FRONT GARDEN; THE MAPLE BOUGHS HANG LOW WITH THE WEIGHT OF ICE AND SNOW. I DON'T KNOW HOW ANY WRITER COULD BE STALEMATED BY WHAT HAS DRESSED THE LOWLAND TODAY. EVEN THOUGH THERE ISN'T ANY DIRECT SUN, IT IS BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL.

THE HOT CUP OF TEA FEELS GOOD ON MY OLD ARTHRITIC HANDS, AND BOSKO HAS ONCE AGAIN HUMANELY COVERED MY CHILLED FEET WITH ITS BODY, AND THERE IS A CAT ON MY LAP, AND ANOTHER PURRING ON THE WINDOW-SILL. WITH THE CONTENTING INTERIOR DESIGN OF OLD BOOKS, OLD STUFF, AND OLD WARM PETS, THE SCENE BEYOND MY WINDOW PANE, IS JUST AS WARM TO THE HEART, AS THE CREATURE COMFORTS THUSLY PREVAILING UPON MY RESPITE. I SHALL WRITE TODAY……I SHALL ENJOY THE OPPORTUNITY OF REPORTING ON WINTER AT LAST. I CHERISH THIS VANTAGE POINTS, AS I HAVE ALWAYS, FROM THE FIRST WINTER WE CAME TO RESIDE HERE, FULL OF ENTHUSIASM, DELIGHTED BY THE VIEW FROM HERE, ONTO THE SNOWY WOODLANDS, AND THE BASIN OF FROZEN CAT-TAILS AND BOG GRASSES.

I'M TOLD BY THE RESIDENT WEATHER-WATCHER, SUZANNE, THAT THERE IS LIKELY TO BE RAIN BY TUESDAY. AS THIS IS SUNDAY, I SHALL WRITE QUICKLY TO CAPTURE ALL THE WINTER THAT HAS BEEN BESTOWED UPON US…..FOR THESE SEVERAL, MEMORABLE DAYS IN SOUTH MUSKOKA.

Gravenhurst Winter Carnival, Muskoka

THE CELEBRATION OF WINTER - WITH SKOKIE THE OTTER

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

HOMEGROWN FROM THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS, WAS THE IDEA TO CREATE A WINTER SONG TO BE GIVEN TO THE BRAVE FOLKS, WHO HAVE COME TOGETHER TO REJUVENATE THE ANNUAL FEBRUARY CARNIVAL, THAT WAS ORIGINALLY LAUNCHED IN THE WINTER OF 1971 FOR THE THREE MAJOR TOWNS OF MUSKOKA. IT WAS ON THE 22ND AND 23RD OF JANUARY, 1971, THAT SKOKIE, THE MUSKOKA WINTER CARNIVAL MASCOT, MADE HIS FIRST OFFICIAL VISIT TO LAUNCH WHAT BECAME A LONG-TIME SEASONAL TRADITION.

A COMMITTEE IN GRAVENHURST, BEGAN MODESTLY, AND WITH DETERMINATION SEVERAL YEARS AGO, TO RE-CREATE THE WINTER CARNIVAL IN THIS TOWN, AFTER A LONG HIATUS. NOW KNOWN AS THE GRAVENHURST WINTER CARNIVAL, SCHEDULED FOR THE LAST WEEKEND OF FEBRUARY THIS YEAR, SKOKIE IS STILL THE EVENT MASCOT. SO WHEN I SUGGESTED, DURING THE CHRISTMAS LULL, HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, THAT THE BOYS PUT TOGETHER A SONG ABOUT THE WINTER CARNIVAL, THEY, AS USUAL, THOUGHT OLD DAD WAS HITTING THE SAUCE. BUT I WAS UNRELENTING (AS I'M KNOWN TO GET) THAT THE GROUP THEY PERFORM WITH, KNOWN AS "PRESSURE POINT," WAS PERFECT FOR THE JOB. AT CHRISTMAS, THE LOCAL RADIO STATION PLAYS THE SONG "I GOT SOCKS," OVER AND OVER, AND WITH LEAD SINGER DANI O'CONNOR GETTING A LOT OF RECOGNITION THESE DAYS, IT SEEMED THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO TRY SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT……A SONG ABOUT A CARNIVAL AND AN OLD BUT ENDURING OTTER. SO BY GOLLY, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THEY DID. AND OLD DAD IS PROUD OF THEM FOR GIVING IT A SHOT.

AS THE GRAVENHURST COMMITTEE IS WORKING HARD TO BRING THIS WINTER TRADITION BACK, IT WAS ONLY FAIR THAT THE GROUP OFFER THEIR CREATIVE ENTERPRISE AS A SHOW OF SUPPORT FOR THE CAUSE……..TO GET THIS COMMUNITY IN GEAR, TO HAVE SOME WINTER FUN FOR A CHANGE.

THE GROUP IS MADE UP OF DANI O'CONNOR, AARON BINDER, ANDREW CURRIE, ROBERT CURRIE, WITH VOCAL SUPPORT FROM RAY PARSONS, AND JON O'CONNOR. IT WILL BE OFFICIALLY RELEASED ONLINE BY THIS EVENING, AND I WILL PROVIDE A LINK TO THE YOU-TUBE SITE. IT'S A CATCHY LITTLE SONG, AND WE ALL HOPE IT WILL ENCOURAGE FOLKS TO COME OUT AND PLAY WITH SKOKIE…….STILL PRETTY FRISKY AFTER ALL THESE YEARS.

YOU KNOW, IT'S ALL ABOUT THE RECREATIONAL OPPORTUNITIES ABOUNDING, IN THE MIDST OF A GREAT SEASON IN MUSKOKA. COME OUT AN SEE FOR YOURSELF.

The Advantages of Outdoor Education

NATURE AT A GLANCE-

WORRYING ABOUT POLLUTION, ENVIRONMENTAL SOFTENING, AND LESS OUTDOOR EDUCATED YOUNGSTERS

We have avoided the freezing rain once again, and with the exception of minor evidence on the car window this morning, one of the most vile conditions of the winter season, has blown past our community at least. We will have to settle for a dusting of snow, and heavier accumulations by tomorrow. It is all very manageable. It was a pleasure to be outside, and I stood and watched the birds flitting about in the Bog hardwoods…..the squirrels dashing about, chattering all the way. The wild turkeys were here again, as their claw-prints are still visible in the snow in our driveway. This is the first morning in a while that I haven't seen fresh deer tracks on the shoulder of the lane.

A few years ago, when the Town of Gravenhurst, got the idea to sell off The Bog, for residential lot development, and the neighborhood, with a lot of help from citizens throughout the town, joined a large protest against the plan, I commenced a new blog as an information source for one and all. We wanted to be absolutely sure the message was getting out there, and it worked well, at least this is what I'm told. Many people from well beyond the community contacted me through the site, to relay their messages of support……and discuss similarly distressing parallels in their own communities. What we were experiencing, was, and continues to happen throughout North America……filtering lowlands being infilled to promote development…..whether it is needed, or not. Urban sprawl is just as much a risk to our well being as we've long known…..but find it almost impossible to protect against, when it comes down to the weight of capital on proponent's side. Versus what citizens can afford to spend.

I have very little faith in our federal government at present, to safeguard our environmental future. Of course, this rides on the reality, I haven't trusted any federal government in years, to practice the kind of environmental stewardship that clearly demonstrates, there's life after their term of office……..and they might not be re-elected, based on the carnage left in their wake. What I continue to see, and read about, is a governance that stubbornly sticks to their mantra, regardless of what appears to most of us, as pure common sense. The "we're in power, so we're right" is the mission statement of bullies, and when it comes to the environment, these folks scare the hell out of me with their bullying righteousness. Their attitude toward democracy is appalling, and the last time I saw, up close and personal, a parallel point of view, I was threatening to chain myself to one of these venerable old maples, that guard this beautiful, urban neighborhood greenbelt. If we had run into greater resistance to our protests, there is no question we would have been forced to seek financial assistance, and take the media campaign to extremes. And yes, if it meant chaining myself to what I believe is important, for our future well being, then it was worth the protest……and I suppose incarceration…..after the chain cutters had to be employed.

More and more environmentally concerned folks……not activists by character, but motivated to protect our resources as average citizens, find themselves at odds with the general ineptitude of our federal and provincial governance…and their actions influence the municipal councils to go down the same road……..believing that nature is a vastly forgiving resource that we should abuse and exploit for cash return. I haven't been political for years, such that I would join the party stripe. I'm moving in that direction. I don't like the prevailing attitude of the federal government, and their actions, supposedly on our behalf, to protect our natural resources. We don't need half-measures. The half measures we saw in Gravenhurst, were weak enough, that the idea to sell off a wetland, didn't seem all that big a deal. Here's why. Most of the council, willing to agree on this public land sell-off, had never even visited The Bog, and had little if any idea about its significance to the town's run-off water, and how the lowland filtered this cascade, before it arrived in the currents of Muskoka Bay, of the larger Lake Muskoka. I challenged councillors, by email, blog, and Letter to the Editor, to come and do a site-inspection before proceeding on the course of environmental destruction.

Local councillors thought I was too threatening, because I suggested, that if they didn't inspect the property, and carried on with the plan to sell off the land for development, I would conduct a serious campaign to force their resignations. So a few stood their ground, as ridiculous as that was, and refused to take the advice of a tree hugger…..a citizen, they thought, who should have kept his oar out of the water. The mayor came and took a walk through The Bog, and the in-person inspection, changed his opinion. He led the way to saving the open space. But there were still councillors who never put one foot on that endangered property. Now this is the kind of stewardship shortfall that is happening all over the country……where ignorance amongst policy makers, is killing wetlands and forest.

I really worry about the fact there is not more Outdoor Education in our school system. It should be intensive, because folks, if it's not now, environmental conservation and restoration will be a dominant fact of life and survival, in a decade, and it will likely be too late to change the bad stuff from happening to eternity.

I remember Dave Brown, one of the province's well known Outdoor Education instructors, from Hamilton, being devastated when a former Conservative government, cut back education funding, such that his incredible, nature filled classroom, had to be closed to regular classes. As his biographer, I can tell you honestly, his heart was broken. It may have been recorded on his death certificate, as death due to a disorder of the blood, but those close to him recognize that Dave was never the same, after he lost his Outdoor Education classroom. Thousands upon thousands of youngsters he had tutored, were the lucky ones. Those who never got the chance….to know the man, who was fascinated by the wonders of nature, missed out on a stewardship opportunity that was precious.

I don't expect our politicians today, have had much at all to do with outdoor education generally. And that should have us all worried, as Polar Bears scavenge for food because of a shortage of ice to cross, and the quest for economic prosperity, continues to be reason enough to abandon what will save us all on this planet.

It's the reason I enjoy every single moment, here at Birch Hollow, looking out at The Bog, that a community of reasonable, logical people helped save for the good of the environment. If it had been left to political will……we would be looking at tarmac and architecture, where these birds and squirrels gather today.

The Thaw Contiunes, Phone Calls Still Annoying

THE VIEW FROM HERE, AND THE DAYS OF THAW

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

IT AGAIN PROMISES TO BE A MILD DAY IN JANUARY. PART OF THE EXTENDED JANUARY THAW, THIS NEW YEAR, AND THE CONTINUATION OF A WINTER KNOWN MORE FOR ITS HIGHS THAN LOWS. AT TIMES IT FEELS A LITTLE BIT LIKE AN ENGLISH MORNING, WITH MIST BLOWING THROUGH THE BOG, AS IF A COUNTRYSIDE MOOR. IT IS BEAUTIFUL IN ITS MODESTY, AND WHILE NOT HAVING THE USUAL BRISKNESS, AND SWIRL OF ARCTIC WIND, AND SNOW, IT IS ONE OF THE MORE ACCESSIBLE WINTERS……AND I CAN WANDER THROUGH THE WOODS WITHOUT TOO MUCH DIFFICULTY. NO NEED FOR SNOWSHOES OR SKIS TO NAVIGATE THE PATHWAYS. I PONDER WHAT THE MUSKOKA GROUNDHOG WILL SEE ON THE MORNING OF FEBRUARY 2ND. SIX WEEKS OF NON-WINTER WILL BE NICE TO MANY MUSKOKANS…..NOT SO, FOR THE MANY SNOWMOBILERS AND SKIERS, WHO HAVE BEEN THWARTED THIS SEASON BY LITTLE SNOW AND TOO MUCH MELT. THEY ARE IMPORTANT CONTRIBUTORS TO OUR LOCAL ECONOMY. WE NEED THEM.

WHAT TIME WOULD HAVE BEEN INVESTED BY NECESSITY, NORMALLY AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, SHOVELLING SNOW, HAS BEEN SPENT WANDERING THROUGH THE BOG, OR STANDING ABOUT THE YARD, ADMIRING THE WILDLIFE THAT MAKES BIRCH HOLLOW A STOP-OVER ON THEIR TRAVELS. OF COURSE, I'VE HAD MUCH MORE TIME TO PUNCH THE KEYS ON THIS KEYBOARD, AS THIS IS HOW MY WIFE DESCRIBES MY TYPING. SHE CLAIMS THAT IF SHE CAN HEAR ME FROM THE KITCHEN ABOVE MY OFFICE, I'M HITTING THE KEYS MUCH TOO HARD. SHE TELLS ME ABOUT "THE SOFT TOUCH," AND THAT THE DAYS OF THE OLD UNDERWOOD ARE GONE FOREVER NOW. I THINK SHE MAY WISH ME TO ATTEND SENSITIVITY TRAINING FOR OLD TYPISTS. "IF THE DOOR TO THE KITCHEN IS CLOSED, AND I STILL HEAR YOU TYPING ON THAT KEYBOARD, WELL, THAT'S JUST WRONG." OLD HABITS. I USED TO HIT THE UNDERWOOD KEYS SO HARD THEY'D SHRED THE RIBBON AND CUT THROUGH THE PAPER. SUZANNE POINTED OUT, THAT I WAS ACTUALLY IMPRINTING ONTO THE RUBBER MATTING ON THE PAPER ROLLER. SO I WAS! IS THERE SOME TYPE OF COMPETITION I COULD ENTER, TO PRESENT THIS CAPABILITY TO THE WORLD?

ACTUALLY, FOR A TIME WHEN I RAN OUT OF RIBBONS FOR MY OLD TYPEWRITERS, I BEGAN HANDWRITING MY FEATURE COLUMNS FOR THE LOCAL PRESS. SHE TOOK ME ASIDE ONE DAY, AND SAID "THIS HAS GOT TO STOP." "NO DEAR, SHE'S ONLY A FRIEND," I REPLIED, NOT KNOWING WHAT KIND OF TROUBLE I WAS IN, BUT ATTEMPTING TO COVER WHAT I THOUGHT WAS THE MOST LIKELY. "WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT," SHE COUNTERED. "WHAT ARE YOU REFERRING TO?" I RETALIATED. "YOU'RE WRITING SO HARD, YOU'RE IMPRINTING RIGHT THROUGH THE PAPER ONTO MY TABLE," SHE SAID, DRAWING MY ATTENTION TO AN ACTUAL COLUMN WRITTEN ONTO THE PINE BOARDS OF THE HARVEST TABLE. "NO WAY," I SAID. "FEEL IT," SHE DEMANDED. SURE ENOUGH, IT WASN'T JUST VISIBLE, AS WITH A BIT OF INK. IT WAS A CURRIE ENGRAVING. "WHY DO YOU FEEL THE NEED TO PRESS DOWN SO HARD WHEN YOU WRITE," SHE ASKED. "I DON'T KNOW…..IT JUST HAPPENS," I SPUTTERED, STILL RUBBING THE SCRIPT IN PINE.

WELL, IN FACT, I DO KNOW WHY THIS HAS, AND TO SOME DEGREE, CONTINUES TODAY. IT BEGAN WHEN I WAS WORKING AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE. IT IS UNDOUBTEDLY THE COMBINATION OF TWO DISTINCT REALITIES THAT I FACED AS EDITOR. I FELT THE PRESSURE OF THE JOB, AND I LOVED TO WRITE……AND THAT KIND OF LED TO A STRANGE OUTPOURING OF INTENSITY ONTO THE OLD KEYBOARD. THAT, AND I REMEMBER A TRIP TO THE TORONTO STAR NEWSROOM, AS A YOUNG JOURNALISM STUDENT, AND HEARING ABOUT 40 TYPEWRITERS BEING USED AT THE SAME TIME. WHAT A PLEASANT DIN TO A WRITER, TO HEAR ALL THIS TYPEWRITER ACTION.

So inadvertently, I took out my anger and frustration with my bosses at the paper, and blended it with the enthusiasm I had for being paid to write. What an amazing amalgamation that was, and I used to have secretaries at the paper, ask how my keyboard didn't catch fire in the middle of my work. It did smell like something was burning, but I always wrote that off to the trace smoke from my ears, just prior to that always potential spontaneous combustion I'd warned my bosses about. But it was musical in its own way, and the faster I went, and the harder I hit those keys, the better I seemed to write. It's like I was hammering home a point, I suppose. Just being harshly emphatic, and prejudicially judgmental, smoked those keys, let me tell you. I'd come off a writing jag and be sweating, and feeling as if I'd just run a 10 K. At home, with a couple of pints of ale, geez, it sounded like the percussion section of an orchestra. So I've been doing this for a long, long time. Suzanne, being the ever frugal home economist warns me that beating the pulp out of the keyboard, will cost us the price of a new one. Being just slightly less cheap than her, the cost factor does influence me, as this little sucker was expensive. I like it. I just don't want to replace it.

Any way, I've been spending a lot more time down in my archives so far this winter, thanks to the fact I haven't been forced to spend hours clearing away snow here at Birch Hollow. What a wonderful opportunity I've thusly been afforded, by my dear Mother Nature.

Oh, just now I've hung up on the 10th unsolicited phone call this week. And we're on the "no call" list, that by the way isn't all that effective at blocking what it is supposed to……calls telling me I've won a boat cruise. Naw, I don't think so. And I don't ski, so I won't need the gift packages I'm being offered. My credit is fine, so I won't need their services…..and the list of advantages I'm being offered at no obvious charge…..goes on and on and on. If Suzanne was to tell me, this morning, that my work at the computer has come to sound as if a snare drum is being played on a fast march somewhere, I will explain……"This is a needed exercise, for me to live in a house, with a phone, and a network of sales-pitchers from all over the globe." Forgive my trespasses, oh pleasantly appointed keyboard! I don't mean to hurt you in my expression of frustration, as I usually act in a more joyful manner upon your delicate keys.

I'm going for a walk now. No cell phone allowed. Just an old dog and great expectations.

Good thing Thoreau didn't have a phone out there at Walden Pond.

Muskoka in the January Thaw

PEACE AND SOLITUDE - AN INSPIRATIONAL PLACE - THE CRICKET AND THE STORM

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

FOR MANY YEARS I THOUGHT A CHORUS OF TWENTY EMPLOYEES YELLING AT ONE ANOTHER, WAS A NECESSARY COMPONENT OF AN INTERESTING LIFE. IT WAS EXCITING. I WASN'T IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR ZONE, OR ANYTHING, REPORTING ON THE PROGRESS OF ARTILLERY FIRE, OR ANYTHING REMOTELY SIMILAR. IT WAS FAR MORE GENTLE AND PASSIVE THAN BEING A WAR CORRESPONDENT.

STILL, ON A LESSER SCALE, I WAS IN THE MIDST OF LIFE FOR THE LIVING. YOU COULDN'T GET COMPLACENT, BECAUSE EVEN IF YOU GOT USED TO THE DIN, THAT PARTICULAR DAY, THE REPORTING STAFF, COULD AT ANY MOMENT, RECEIVE AN EMERGENCY CALL, TO A FIRE OR MAJOR ACCIDENT OCCURRING SOMEWHERE IN THE REGION. WE WERE THEN, OFF AND RUNNING, CAMERAS SWINGING AROUND OUR NECKS, NOTEPADS STUCK AWKWARDLY UNDER OUR ARMS. I LOVED THE SOUND OF FIVE TYPEWRITERS BEING EMPLOYED AT ONCE, AND I GOT PRETTY GOOD AT WRITING EDITORIAL CONTENT, WHILE HAVING A PARADE OF STAFFERS WALKING BY MY DESK……SOMETIMES STOPPING TO HAVE A LITTLE SOCIAL GET-TOGETHER, ABOUT OFFICE POLITICS OR UPDATES ABOUT THE PARTY PLANNED FOR THE WEEKEND. THERE WERE MORE PEOPLE FLYING BY MY DESK IN THAT LITTLE NEWSROOM THAN ACTUALLY WORKED AT THE HERALD-GAZETTE, IN BRACEBRIDGE. IT WAS PRETTY DIFFICULT COMPOSING A STORY IN THE MIDST OF CHAOS BUT FOR JUST OVER A DECADE, I WAS ABLE TO PUT EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE, AND PRODUCE SOME READER-FRIENDLY EDITORIAL COPY. TODAY. NO FREAKING WAY! I'M MORE INTO SOLITUDE THAN EVER. "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU TED…..YOU'VE GONE SOFT ON US," MY MATES CHIRP LIKE THE ANNOYING CRICKET IN MY ARCHIVES.

Even this past Christmas season, my archives cricket was driving me nuts, with the ever-intrusive hops he took, from one corner to the other, and the occasional chirping that always seemed to happen at a critical moment, during some writing project. What I used to be able to get past in a newsroom, including flying lunch items, and muffin stumps getting tossed about like grenades, pop getting spilled onto the keys, by some co-op student, trying to read my copy upside-down. How pathetic and old I feel, when all it takes to unsettle a little creative exercise, is a wee cricket and expectation…….when it will chirp next. I guess if the cricket multiplies, before I can catch him / her and prepare for a humane exit from Birch Hollow, I will just have to get used to the intrusions…..unless I must retire from writing altogether. I have, after all, learned to deal with the inmate cats making noise constantly, although purring is most definitely more soothing than the dripping tap situation with that cricket…..silent today, which is nice.

I've written in the heart of London, England, while staying at the Regent Palace Hotel, and the residence of the University of London, and in Nottingham's Sherwood Forest; in pubs, bars, on the beach at Ponce Inlet, in Florida, in Macon, Georgia, Findlay, Ohio and well, on the shore of Lake Joseph, here in Muskoka, while living in the miniature estate, known as "Seven Person's Cottage." There have been a few crickets and assorted wee beasties in all of these places, but they didn't bother me. This one does. As if it is the re-incarnation of a school yard bully, bound and determined to get written into my biography by one means or another.

Birch Hollow has been a respite, I guess you might say, from the rigors of the old days, when I wrote better in a bar-room, with a jug-full of beer on the table, than sitting in solitude, watching the snow flurries dust over The Bog. I'm not at all sure, these days, as an elder statesman in this neighborhood, if I will ever again be able to write amidst the hustle and bustle of the urban world. I won't even listen to music here, while I'm writing, because I don't want any other influences, than what I see framed by my window out onto the front garden, and out upon The Bog and its fringe woodland. Suzanne reminds me that my interest in writing bypasses all the intrusive actions and re-actions, and wonders aloud about such nonsense as this……..refusing to believe I couldn't write about a current event, by being right at the epicenter. "You know it's what you thrive on," she responds. "You will never let interruption or noise stop you from writing…..I know you better than that. You just add the reality of what's going on around you, into the story, that's all. You know that cricket?" "Yes, but what does it have to do with it," I bark with indignation. "Well, for months you've been complaining about the bug, and I couldn't help noticing, that you've been writing about it since November." "True enough," I respond. "But that's just an observational thing." "No, Ted, it's part of the story line. You even start feeling sorry for it, and make a point, that even if you caught it, you wouldn't throw it outside in case it had family here in the basement," she retorted. "And that the poor devil would get cold." She made the point, "That cricket is one of your mates, not an intruder! The cricket, as an annoyance, and intruder, and what you call a 'bandy legged wee beastie,' is now part of your journal. So what would be the difference if you were working in a busy newsroom again……you'd just figure a way through the noise and confusion to get your work done. Birch Hollow has made you think, solitude is the only way you can work." Suzanne knows me too well. As my manager / editor and motivational speaker, on speed-dial, I guess she knows best. I just don't call her "my muse." She doesn't like that I would think of her as a source of inspiration. She doesn't like her name appearing in anything I publish, and she outrightly refuses to have her picture taken by the local press. I had a hand in that…..for a lot of years being associated with the print media, when her picture was in the paper every other week. She was a good sport then, just not now.

But I do like the solitude here this morning, and the chirp-free environs at this moment. I like the sound of the wind, and the way the raspberry canes are smacked up against the window pane, and how the lilacs in the front garden, dance in the gusting wind. It is haunting to hear the mysterious banging against the homestead, of maple boughs to my right, and evergreen to my immediate left, and the sound of footsteps on the crunching ice along the lane. Ice pellets have been hitting the window, and the wind has become very strong in the last few minutes, and the howl through the lowland is the kind of natural intrusion I welcome to my story-line, writing this morning about Muskoka as Walden.

In re-reading the last paragraph, I know what Suzanne was talking about. It's certainly not the case, Birch Hollow is a silent place. Quite the opposite. But it is the place I'm used to writing…..used to relaxing in, with no office-mates, and coffee-time gossip to influence my day. Yet there are still many interesting intrusions I've learned to live with…..and welcome, in fact…..like the storm front moving over the lakeland at present…..and how it inspires me to write…….not walk away from the opportunity, because there is a din brewing.

What a magnificent din it is. Just no flung sandwiches, or spilled pop into the keyboard. I like that about the present.

Muskoka Winter, Not So Bad

A RAINY DAY IN JANUARY - I CAN LIVE WITH IT

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

IT MIGHT BE DARK AND UNINSPIRING, AT FIRST GLANCE, BUT TODAY'S WARMER TEMPERATURES, AND POTENTIAL OF RAIN, ARE PRETTY TYPICAL OF JANUARY THAWS I'VE KNOWN IN THE PAST. THIS IS SUPPOSED TO LAST A LITTLE LONGER THAN MOST OTHER THAW PERIODS, TRADITIONAL OF EARLY WINTER, BUT THEN THIS HAS BEEN QUITE UNUSUAL FROM THE ONSET IN DECEMBER. I WAS PREPARED FOR WINTER IN EARLY NOVEMBER, AS SOME FORECASTERS WERE CLAIMING, AS THE START OF THE COLD AND STORMY WEATHER. IT DIDN'T SHOW UP. I WAS THERE WILL SHOVEL IN HAND, TOQUE OVER MY EARS, AND VIGOR IN MY STEP. I FEEL ASLEEP WAITING.

I WILL BE GOING OUT AGAIN SOON, FOR A MOTOR TRIP UPTOWN HERE IN GRAVENHURST, TO DELIVER THE BOYS TO THEIR MUSIC SHOP ON THE MAIN STREET…..OPPOSITE THE HISTORIC OPERA HOUSE. I'LL GRAB A COFFEE, THAT ROBERT OWES ME FOR THE LAST FIVE I'VE BOUGHT FOR HIM, AND I'LL TAKE IT WITH ME ON A WALK OVER TO THE BOG. IT'S A LITTLE TRICKY TO WALK ALONG THE PATH, MIXED WITH ICE AND SLUSHY SNOW, BUT IT'S NOT VERY DEEP IN THE FIRST PLACE.

THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF PINE LIMBS THAT HAVE BEEN BROKEN OFF, SINCE THE FIRST STORMS OF DECEMBER, WITH THE STRANGE COMBINATION OF RAIN, A DROP IN TEMPERATURE, AND THEN HEAVY SNOW. I'VE SEEN IT FIVE OR SIX TIMES ALREADY THIS WINTER SEASON, WHERE THE LIMBS HAVE BEEN OVER-BURDENED BY ICE AND SNOW, SO MUCH SO IN FACT, THAT I'VE HAD TO SUSPEND MY WALKS MANY TIMES, AS SO MUCH ELEVATED DEBRIS COMES CRASHING DOWN ONTO THE PATHWAY THROUGH THE WOODS. EVEN THROUGH THE AREA OF THE CATHEDRAL MAPLES, ON MUSKOKA BEACH ROAD, THE SCENE, AT TIMES, HAS BEEN QUITE AMAZING, AS THE WEIGHT-STRESSED BOUGHS ALMOST HIT THE ROADWAY. THERE ARE A LOT OF DOWNED LIMBS ALL OVER SOUTH MUSKOKA, CAUSED BY THESE WEATHER EVENTS. WHAT'S PLEASING TO THE PASSERSBY AND PHOTOGRAPHERS, HAS PLAYED HAVOC WITH VENERABLE OLD PINES AND MAPLES, AND WITH QUITE A NUMBER OF HYDRO LINES IN THE REGION.

A LOT OF THE PRESENT SNOW WILL MELT AWAY ALMOST TO GRASS LEVEL, IF THIS WEEK REMAINS AS WARM AS PREDICTIONS INDICATE AT PRESENT. I DON'T LIKE NOT HAVING AT LEAST A FOOT OF SNOW AS INSULATION OVER THE WATERLINES……SO I'M HOPING THEY'RE WRONG.

ANYWAY, IT IS STILL A WONDERFUL SCENE HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, AND AS I LOVE TO WRITE THROUGH THE FOUR SEASONS, I WILL SPEND MOST OF THIS DAY PLEASANTLY OCCUPIED BY THE GOOD GRACES OF A WONDERFUL WRITING PARTNER…..MUSKOKA.

Muskoka Winter Travels

THE COLD AND BEAUTIFUL REALITIES OF A MUSKOKA WINTER

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

ALTHOUGH IT IS ANTICIPATED THERE WILL BE RAINFALL BY THE FIRST OF NEXT WEEK, IT CAN NOT DIMINISH THE RAW NATURAL BEAUTY ONE WITNESSES TODAY, AFTER THE SNOWFALL OF YESTERDAY. IT IS MINUS 20 C HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, THE LAST TIME I LOOKED AT THE OUTSIDE THERMOMETER BUT THERE HAS BEEN A SLOW RISE IN TEMPERATURE, SINCE SUNRISE, WHEN IT WAS ABOUT THREE DEGREES COLDER. THERE HASN'T BEEN ANY OF THE USUAL CRACKING AND SNAPPING OF TREES AND THE TIMBERS OF OUR HOMESTEAD, INDICATING THE TEMPERATURE HADN'T HIT AS LOW AS IT HAD BEEN A NUMBER OF DAYS AGO. THERE IS A GOOD PADDING OF SNOW ON THE FRONT LAWN, WHICH ALWAYS CONCERNS ME. BY ALL STANDARDS OF MUSKOKA LIVING, THE WATERLINES MAY BE BURIED SAFELY TO GUARD AGAINST THE DEEPENING OF GROUND FROST, BUT HAVING A FOOT OR MORE OF SNOW, AS INSULATION, IS A LITTLE EXTRA GOD-PROVIDED INSURANCE AGAINST POTENTIAL FREEZE-UP. EVEN THE SNOW ON THE ROOF, HELPS WITH THE INSULATION, AND IF ANYTHING IMPRESSES ME ABOUT OUR ABODE, IS THE REALITY THE FIRST OWNER, INSISTED ON MORE THAN ADEQUATE INSULATION, AND WE HAVE ENJOYED 22 YEARS OF RELATIVE WINTER COMFORT. I HAVE LIVED IN HOUSES WITH GROSSLY INADEQUATE INSULATION, AND KNOWN THE CONSEQUENCES OF WATERLINE FREEZING, AT MINUS 30…..AND HAVING TO CLIMB INTO A CRAWL SPACE TO UNTHAW THE PIPES BEFORE THEY BURST.

WE ARE ABOUT TO HEAD OUT BY AUTOMOBILE, THROUGH THIS WINTER WONDERLAND, ON ONE OF OUR REGULAR ANTIQUE HUNTS. YOU CAN READ MORE ABOUT OUR ANTIQUE COLLECTING INTERESTS BY CLICKING ONTO

http://gravenhurstmuskoka.blogspot.com/ I HAVE ALREADY BEEN OUT FOR A DRIVE THIS MORNING, TO TAKE SUZANNE TO WORK, AND THE MOTORING IS GOOD ON THE SIDE ROADS. IT IS A TRULY AMAZING JOURNEY ALONG MUSKOKA BEACH ROAD, NORTH TO BRACEBRIDGE, AND OF ALL THE ROADS I'VE TRAVELLED IN MY YEARS AS A ROVING REPORTER, IT IS THIS STRETCH OF TYPICAL COUNTRY TOPOGRAPHY, I FIND MOST CALMING AND INSPIRATIONAL. YOU GET TO TRAVEL BY THE ALWAYS PICTURESQUE LAKE MUSKOKA, AND THE PASTURE OF THE FORMER JONES FARM, PAST THE CATHEDRAL MAPLES. AND THEN WIND SLOWLY THROUGH A SMALL VALLEY WHERE ANOTHER FARM HOUSE STANDS OUT AGAINST THE SNOW-LADEN FIELDS, BORDERED BY HARDWOOD FOREST AND ROCK.

YOU COULD TAKE A THOUSAND PHOTOGRAPHS ALONG THIS STRETCH OF MUSKOKA ROADWAY, AND STILL FIND OTHER QUALITIES AND QUANTITIES OF NATURE TO FRAME FOR POSTERITY. I LOVE THIS ROAD THROUGHOUT THE YEAR, AND EACH SEASON OFFERS DISTINCTLY TANTALIZING PANORAMAS, AND LOTS OF WILDLIFE. I CAME UPON SIX WILD TURKEYS ON A HILLSIDE YESTERDAY MORNING, JUST VISIBLE THROUGH THE FALLING SNOW. OFTEN WE WILL COME UPON DEER IN THE PASTURE, HORSES AMBLING THROUGH THE FEILDS, OWLS PERCHED ON DEAD TREES AND FENCE POSTS, AND HAWKS CIRCLING OVER HEAD. BETWEEN TWO URBAN AREAS, THIS HINTERLAND IS AN OASIS FOR A LOT OF TRAVELERS, WHO PREFER TO DRIVE THIS ARTERY THROUGH THE COUNTRYSIDE, RATHER THAN TAKE THE HIGHWAY NORTH OR SOUTH. THIS IS A ROAD YOU CAN MOTOR ALONG MORE SLOWLY, AND THOUGHTFULLY, WHILE ENJOYING THE SCENERY….. WHICH TODAY WILL BE ABOUT AS ENCHANTED AS THE WINTER SCENES FROM "NARNIA" BY C.S. LEWIS. THERE IS A INVASIVE BUT WELCOME AURA OF CALM, AND SENSATION OF GENTLENESS TO IT ALL, DESPITE THE COLD, AND THE SNOW-COVERED ROADWAY. IT IS AN UNFOLDING SCENE THAT POSSESSES THE VIRTUES OF SOLITUDE YET IT WORKS QUITE THE OPPOSITE, AS WE FIND OURSELVES STIMULATED BY THE SAME VISTA THAT RELAXES THE URBAN BEAST WITHIN. SUCH IS THE CONTRADICTION OF THIS PASSIVELY BEAUTIFUL PLACE, THAT WE ARE EASED AND ENTICED IN THE MOMENT OF DISCOVERY, BY THE ALLURE OF THE VERY NEXT TURN IN THE ROAD……WHEN ANOTHER SCENE WILL REVEAL ITSELF TO THE EAGER SPIRIT. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO BE UNAFFECTED BY THIS EMBRACE OF MUSKOKA WINTER, AT LONG LAST, AND SEEK ADVENTURE FROM THESE RISING, FALLING, TWISTING COUNTRY LANES, BY LAKESIDE AND FARMSTEAD, THROUGH MAPLE GROVES AND PINE FORESTS.

WE OFTEN WONDER ABOUT THOSE WHO PREFER TO VISIT MUSKOKA IN THE WARMER SEASONS OF THE YEAR. MIGHT THEY ENJOY THIS SCENERY AS WELL? IS IT POSSIBLE, AS THEY FIND PLEASURE AND RELAXATION IN THE SUMMER, TO FEEL SIMILARLY PAMPERED BY THIS BEAUTIFUL SCENERY MOST OFTEN CAPTURED BY ARTISTS, IN THEIR PAINTINGS, AND DESCRIBED IN BOOKS, BY INSPIRED AUTHORS?

INDEED, I AM SPOILED, TO LIVE IN SUCH A PARADISE AS THIS, OPEN TO MY ADVENTURES THROUGHOUT THE ROLLING YEAR. WE SHALL ENJOY THE DRIVE THIS MORNING, AND STOP OCCASIONALLY, TO RE-VISIT WILD TURKEYS, OWLS, AND HAWKS……MAYBE TAKE A PHOTOGRAPH OF THE HORSES IN THE FIELD, THE DEER ON THE SNOWY HILLSIDE. IT IS A PRIVILEGE, WE SHALL NOT TAKE FOR GRANTED.

Muskoka, Richard Karon

SUN AND CRYSTAL ICE, A FROZEN TRAIL AND THE SOUNDS OF THE URBAN WORLD

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

THE COLD AND ICE-COVERED ROAD HAS ACTED, ALMOST AS IF A PERCUSSIONIST'S TIMPANI, THIS MORNING, AS SOUNDS OF THE URBAN NEIGHBORHOOD BOOM THROUGH THE FROZEN MIST, RISING ABOVE THE BOG. THE AIRCRAFT OVERHEAD, SOUNDS AS IF IT MIGHT LAND ON OUR LANE, AND THE SNOWMOBILE ENGINES, SEVERAL STREETS OVER, SEEM ONLY YARDS FROM RUNNING INTO ME, OUT FOR MY MORNING WANDER TO NO PLACE IN PARTICULAR.

THE FOOTSTEPS INTO THE WOODS FROM YESTERDAY'S WALK, ARE NOW FROZEN IN TIME. CRYSTAL STEPS THAT I CAN STEP INTO, VERY CAREFULLY, SO AS NOT TO SLIP AND TUMBLE. BEING ABLE TO CLEARLY TRACE MY PREVIOUS PATH WITH EASE……SLIDING ONE FOOT AND THEN THE OTHER IN THE FOOTPRINTS THAT PROGRESS EVENLY THROUGHOUT THE FOREST, AND DOWN TO THE EDGE OF THE LOWLAND HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. I STOP AFTER ONLY FIVE OR SIX STEPS, MY BOOTS FITTING SNUGGLY IN YESTERDAY'S PRINTS, AS FRANKLY, I FEEL IT SOMEHOW WRONG TO RELY ON THESE STEPS TO FREE MY THOUGHTS, AS THE PASSAGE DID YESTERDAY, AND THE DAY BEFORE. I WOULD FEEL LESS PROGRESSIVE IF I DID SO, AND ARRIVED AT THE SAME PLACE, AT THE SAME TIME, TO EXPERIENCE THE DISAPPOINTMENT OF A DIFFERENT VIEW OF LANDSCAPE THAN PREVIOUS. IT HAS SNOWED SINCE YESTERDAY'S RAIN, BUT THE WIND THROUGH THIS CHANNEL OF TREES, CLEARED THE LIGHT SNOW OFF THE ICE TRAIL. BY ACT OF HISTORY-MAKING, I MADE THOSE STEPS. BUT THEY ARE BEST SERVED AS A SORT OF PHILOSOPHICAL RETROSPECTIVE TODAY, AND EVEN SLIPPING MY BOOT IN THE SAME INDENTATION, SEEMED AS IF TRYING TO RECLAIM SOMETHING THAT WAS NECESSARILY HOLLOW OF SPIRIT…..AS IF I WAS A GHOST TRYING TO RE-KINDLE THE PAST, OUT OF SELFISHNESS, AND DISRESPECT FOR TIME AND PERPETUITY; AND THE CHANGES NECESSARY BETWEEN SUNRISES, AND SUNSETS, FOR NON-FICTIONAL LIFE TO CONTINUE AS WE KNOW IT.

IT IS A WINDING, UNEVEN COLLECTION OF FOOTSTEPS THAT LAY FROZEN BENEATH THE TOWERING PINES AND LEANING BIRCHES, SILVER IN THE SHADOWS, A TRAIL OF SPARKLING GLASS, AGAINST BLACK WHEN THE SUNLIGHT BREAKS THROUGH THE FOREST CANOPY. AS IT IS SUPPOSED TO, LATER IN THE DAY, AND THE WEEK, MORE RAIN WILL COME TO BREAK DOWN THIS HISTORY OF A WANDERER, THE ABSTRACTIONS OF AN ARTIST, THE MEANDERINGS OF A POET MIRED IN DEEP THOUGHT. THESE FROZEN STEPS FRUSTRATE ME, AS A VOYEUR, BECAUSE THEY TELL ME NOTHING OF WHAT I WISH TO KNOW…….AS I FIND MYSELF WONDERING ABOUT THE THOUGHTS I HAD YESTERDAY MORNING, IMPRINTING MY TRAIL FROM HERE TO THERE, IN THE DEEP SLUSH THAT PREVAILED. IT WAS LIKE A PORTION OF MANUSCRIPT LEFT TO FEND ON ITS OWN, YET HAVING NO CAPABILITY TO SELF-PRESERVE. NO ACCOMPANYING TRANSLATION, IN WORDS, TO EXPLAIN WHY I TRAVELLED EAST AT THE FORKS, AND NOT WEST AS IS TYPICAL ON THESE DAILY WALKS.

I CAN NOT CORRECT WHAT HAS BEEN FROZEN ALONG THIS PATH. THE FACT I LIMP FROM AN OLD INJURY, IS NOT RELEVANT HERE, EVEN THOUGH I MUST HAVE FELT THE DISCOMFORT ASSOCIATED, AS THE FOOTFALL PROGRESSED IN THE SLIPPERY COMBINATION OF SLUSH AND ICE BENEATH. AS I'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO LEAVE HISTORY ALONE, IN DAILY LIFE, I PONDER THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS TRAIL……WONDERING, THAT IF IT HAD BEEN MY LAST FOOTSTEPS ON THIS PLANET, REVOLVING FOR THE FINAL TIME IN THIS MORTAL COIL, MIGHT MY YOUNG LADS HAVE FOUND THE FROZEN TRAIL THIS MORNING, AND KNOWN IT WAS THE LAST ADVENTURE OF THEIR FATHER. OR WOULD IT HAVE MELTED IN THE STRONG SUN, TODAY, BEFORE THEY EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT A VISIT TO MY FAVORITE RETREAT. OR WOULD THEY ARRIVE HERE ONLY TO SPRED MY ASHES, AND NEVER TRULY KNOW THE EXACT PATH I'D TAKEN? WHAT DIFFERENCE WOULD THERE BE, TO THEM, AND MEMORY OF ME, IF THEY STOOD AND PUT THEIR FEET INTO MY FROZEN STEPS? THEY WOULD HAVE FOUND THE SAME HOLLOWNESS THAT I EXPERIENCE NOW, STILL PUTTING MY BOOT IN AND OUT OF A POORLY FORMED, AND UNEVEN FOOTSTEP, HERE AT THE BRINK OF THE BOG…..THAT WHILE HISTORIC, MEANS NOTHING BUT A "PATH ONCE TAKEN."

I HAVE NEVER, IN LIFE, SUGGESTED MY BOYS FOLLOW IN MY FOOTSTEPS. NOT ONCE. AS A WRITER, I WOULD NEVER WISH THIS UPON THEIR FREEDOM, AS IT IS VERY TRUE, WHAT HAS BEEN A BLESSING HAS ALSO BEEN VERY MUCH A CURSE…..A GREAT WEIGHT TO HAUL DOWN THESE PATHS……THE URGE, LIKE A MILL STONE PENDULUM, TO RETURN, AS TIME CLACKS, AND THE MECHANISM WINDS DOWN, HOME TO BIRCH HOLLOW, TO WRITE, AND WRITE, AND WRITE…….

AS IF AN ADDICTION, PLEASANT ENOUGH WITH BURDEN, I WILL RELUCTANTLY SLIDE INTO MY OFFICE CHAIR, PLAY WITH A PENCIL, OR PAPER-CLIP, HAVE SEVERAL SIPS OF HOT TEA, AND DAYDREAM A WHILE LONGER……BEFORE FEELING THE URGE TO EXTEND MY FINGERS ONTO THE KEYS I LOVE TO REJECT, AND TURN AWAY FROM IN A LOVER'S SPAT……ONLY TO RETURN AND FEEL THE ECSTASY OF WHAT I BELIEVE, MISTAKENLY OR NOT, A PROGRESSIVE EXERCISE TO IMPRINT HISTORY. BUT I SHALL NOT FOLLOW THIS SAME DIRECTION TOMORROW, JUST AS I REFUSED TO FOLLOW MY FROZEN FOOTSTEPS IN THE WOODLANDS……SUPERSTITIOUS, I SUPPOSE, THAT I WOULD BE REWINDING THE PAST, AND MAKING MISSTEPS ON THE SLIPPERY SURFACE. AS YESTERDAY BROUGHT WITH IT MANY CHARMS, AND SUCCESSFUL EXECUTION OF NUMEROUS PROJECTS, I'D HATE TO INSPIRE FATE TO HAVE A SECOND LOOK AT MY LEGACY.

IT IS A STRIKINGLY BEAUTIFUL DAY HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. I WILL TAKE AN AFTERNOON SAUNTER OVER AT THE BOG, TO GET AWAY FROM THIS DUNGEON, AS I SEE IT TODAY. I NEED MY MUSE, TO FREE ME IN SPIRIT FROM THE TOLL OF WRITING TOO MUCH, FOR TOO LONG, AND THE FEELING THAT, SOMEHOW I HAVE NOT COMPLETED THE TASK REQUIRED. MY MUSE WOULD CARESS ME WITH RECKLESSNESS, AND I MIGHT WANDER DREAMILY, INSTEAD OF MINDFULLY, WHICH AT TIMES, IS A CURSE……IF IT WASN'T SO WONDERFULLY PLEASANT AT THE SAME TIME.

ENJOY YOUR DAYS IN MUSKOKA. CELEBRATE THE WINTER SEASON.

MUSKOKA ARTIST RICHARD KARON - A BIOGRAPHY TO BE LAUNCHED - AN EXCITING PROJECT ON A TALENTED ARTIST - LONG OVERDUE

I AM ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTED TO ANNOUNCE, THAT I HAVE BEGUN WORK ON AN EXCITING NEW BIOGRAPHY, OF MUSKOKA ARTIST, RICHARD KARON, WHICH I WILL PUBLISH AS A SERIES OF BLOGS, ON MY GRAVENHURST SITE, BEGINNING SOMETIME IN EITHER MARCH OR APRIL. I HAVE ONLY RECENTLY RETURNED TO THE PROJECT WHICH HAD BEEN INITIATED SEVERAL YEARS AGO, BUT WAS DELAYED BY UNEXPECTED FAMILY SITUATIONS…..ONE BEING THE DEATH OF MY FATHER AND THE SETTLING OF HIS ESTATE. WITH OTHER WRITING PROJECTS BACKED-UP, I HAD TO POSTPONE THIS IMPORTANT BIOGRAPHY INDEFINITELY. THE NEW YEAR HAS BROUGHT EXCITING PROJECTS, AND THE BIOGRAPHY OF RICHARD KARON SR. IS ONE I'VE DEFINITELY BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO RESUMING.

OVER THE YEARS AS A FEATURE WRITER, IN MUSKOKA, I'VE WRITTEN MANY ARTICLES ABOUY KARON'S ART WORK, PARTICULARLY THOSE WHEN HE OPERATED HIS STUDIO NEAR BAYSVILLE, ONTARIO, IN THE TOWNSHIP OF LAKE OF BAYS. HE DEPICTED MANY OF THE REGION'S LAKES AND LOWLANDS, AND HIS PAINTINGS HANG TODAY IN HUNDREDS OF HOMES, COTTAGES AND BUSINESSES, AS WELL AS IN BOTH PUBLIC AND PRIVATE COLLECTIONS / GALLERIES. AS I HAVE DONE BIOGRAPHIES OF BRACEBRIDGE ARTIST BOB EVERETT, HUNTSVILLE PAINTER, ADA FLORENCE KINTON, AND OUTDOOR EDUCATOR DAVE BROWN, I AM THRILLED TO COMMENCE THE BIOGRAPHY OF RICHARD KARON TO ADD TO MY EDITORIAL COLLECTION.

AS AN ANTIQUE DEALER, WITH A PASSION FOR MUSKOKA ART PIECES, I HAVE BEEN FLOODED WITH INFORMATION REQUESTS ABOUT MR. KARON'S LIFE AND PAINTING CAREER, AND AT BEST, I COULD ONLY PROVIDE A LIMITED AMOUNT OF BIOGRAPHICAL MATERIAL, AND GENERAL ART APPRAISALS. THIS WILL SOON CHANGE, THANKS TO HIS SON, ALSO NAMED RICHARD KARON. THIS WILL ALLOW THOSE WHO HAVE KARON PAINTINGS, TO EASILY ACCESS INFORMATION ABOUT THE ARTIST, AND GET MORE SENSIBLE APPRAISALS THAN PREVIOUSLY POSSIBLE. WE WELCOME ANY INFORMATION OR STORIES ABOUT YOUR PERSONAL CONTACT WITH THE ARTIST, AND WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE GRAPHICS OF HIS PAINTINGS YOU HAVE IN YOUR OWN COLLECTION. YOU CAN EMAIL VIA THIS BLOG, AND I WILL CONTACT YOU AS SOON AS POSSIBLE ABOUT THE POSSIBILITY OF INCLUDING THESE IMAGES IN THIS BLOG REFERENCE TEXT.

PLEASE WATCH FOR UPDATES ON THIS BIOGRAPHICAL ADVENTURE FOR THE SPRING OF 2012.

Muskoka Stormfront

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

DULL DAY WITH RAIN AND SNOW, AND THE PROMISE OF MUCH MORE THIS EVENING

IT IS HARDLY THE SCENE AUTHOR JOSEPH CONRAD DEPICTED IN HIS BOOK "TYPHOON," YET THE WAY THE WEATHER FORECASTERS HAVE BEEN GOING AT IT THIS MORNING, ONE MIGHT EXPECT THE ENVIRONS TO SOON CONVULSE INTO A RAGE OF VIOLENT FOUL WEATHER. IT HAS BEEN THE TRADITION OF THIS WINTER, SO FAR……ONE OF SHARP CHANGES IN CLIMATE BUT VERY LITTLE CONSISTENCY. IT WILL BE RAINING ONE MORNING, AND WE'LL EXPERIENCE A "FLASH FREEZE" BY LATE AFTERNOON. WE CAN BE IN THE MIDST OF A SNOWSTORM ONE DAY, AND EXPERIENCE THE KIND OF TEMPERATURE INCREASE, THAT MELTS MOST OF WHAT HAD JUST FALLEN THE DAY BEFORE. IT HAS BEEN BLAMED ON MANY THINGS…..FROM GLOBAL WARMING TO THE EFFECTS OF WARM AND COLD CURRENTS IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN. OLDTIMERS AROUND HERE HAVE BEEN PREDICTING THE WEATHER FROM THE SIGNS THEY BEGAN SEEING IN THE LATE SUMMER; SUGGESTING IN CASUAL CONVERSATION…. THAT WHILE A LONG HAUL OF INCLEMENT WEATHER SHOULD BE EXPECTED, IT WASN'T GOING TO BE A SEVERE WINTER SEASON, AS WE'VE KNOWN THEM IN THE PAST. THE SNOW SQUALLS AND RAIN HAVE A LOT TO DO WITH THE WARMER GREAT LAKES, AND LACK OF ICE ON GEORGIAN BAY……ALLOWING THE SHIFTING WEATHER PATTERNS TO PICK UP MOISTURE AND THEN DEPOSIT IT ON US…..AND EVERY PLACE ON THE WAY EAST.

I'VE BEEN WRITING THESE LANDSCAPE PIECES FOR MORE THAN TWENTY YEARS, FROM THIS EXACT SPOT AT BIRCH HOLLOW. IT'S AT THIS TIME OF THE ROLLING YEAR THAT I'M PRETTY MUCH CONSUMED BY WRITING AND BANKING EDITORIAL PIECES, FOR USE IN THE SPRING AND SUMMER SEASONS. THAT'S WHEN THE ANTIQUE-DEALER EMERGES FROM THE WRITER'S BODY, AND ATTEMPTS TO MAKE MONEY TO…….WELL, AS MY WIFE SAYS……ENJOY THE SOJOURN OF BEING A WRITER. I WON'T ARGUE WITH HER THAT WRITING, REGIONALLY, AND NOW ONLINE, IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL, BUT STILL UNFORTUNATE IF YOU HAPPEN TO NEED THE REVENUE TO BUY FOOD. SO FLIPPING IN THE SPRING, TO THE ANTIQUE HUNTER'S CAP, OFFSETS EVERYTHING ELSE. LATELY I'VE BEEN WRITING MUCH MORE ABOUT ANTIQUE COLLECTING AND SELLING, WHICH IS A BIG CHANGE FOR ME PROFESSIONALLY. WHILE I'VE HAD ANTIQUE COLUMNS PUBLISHED IN NUMEROUS MAGAZINES AND NEWSPAPERS SINCE THE LATE 1970'S, I'VE NEVER ATTEMPTED A BIOGRAPHY AS SUCH, TO DOCUMENT OVER THIRTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE PROFESSION, IN ONE FORM OR ANOTHER. I'VE BEEN PREPARING THIS MATERIAL FOR MY GRAVENHURST BLOG, WHICH YOU CAN ACCESS BY CLICKING ONTO http://gravenhurstmuskoka.blogspot.com/

WRITING ABOUT THE SCENE, AS WITNESSED FROM THIS PORTAL, AT BIRCH HOLLOW, HAS ALWAYS BEEN A LITTLE POST-WRITING TREAT. A SORT OF WRITING RESPITE…..WHILE STILL WRITING. I WRITE ABOUT WHAT I SEE AT THE TIME, OR WHAT I'VE JUST RECENTLY WITNESSED DURING A WALK OVER TO THE BOG, OR DOWN THROUGH THE WOODLANDS. THESE ARE NOT PULITZER PIECES, AND THEY'RE NOT FULL OF SPARKLING REVELATIONS, AND RARE INSIGHTS, THAT STRIKE UP THE PROVERBIAL BAND, TO INSPIRE READERS TO TAKE UP AUTHORDOM ALL OF A SUDDEN. YET FOR ALL MY YEARS INVESTED IN WRITING, THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN, FOR ME, WHAT "FROZEN POND SHINNY" IS TO A PROFESSIONAL HOCKEY PLAYER. PRESSURE IS OFF. IT'S A LARK. JUST FOR FUN STUFF, THAT ISN'T INTENDED TO SET THE WORLD ABLAZE, OR REFORM EVERYTHING THAT NEEDS TO BE REFORMED. HERE, IN THIS ILLUMINATION OF AN OLD FARM OIL LAMP, I CAN TREAT MYSELF TO A LITTLE MORE FREEDOM, AND THINK ABOUT THE GRANDEUR OF NATURE, THE JOY OF EXPECTATION, THINKING ABOUT THE SPRING BUDS THAT WILL COME ONE DAY, RESTORING IN THE GARDEN OUTSIDE MY WINDOW, AND LET MY THOUGHTS PLAY SHINNY SO TO SPEAK, WITHOUT WORRY OF DEVIATION FROM THE NORM……SITUATIONS THAT IN A FORMAL PUBLICATION, READERS MIGHT SAY….."HE'S GONE MAD, THAT CURRIE." MY PLEASURE HERE IS TO BE AS FAR FROM NORMAL PROTOCOL AS POSSIBLE, AND TO WRITE AS I FEEL, NOT AS I FEEL OBLIGATED TO MEET A PUBLISHER'S AGENDA.

Suzanne will come down to visit occasionally, and ask if I'd like a cup of tea or plate of cookies, which I gladly accept, as it will corrupt me in a most contenting way. I don't believe for a moment that I will start writing gibberish just because of a peanut butter or oatmeal cookie, or a sweet cup of hot tea. It's true that I don't listen to music during these little writing sessions, because I most definitely found the melancholy of music I retreated with, to calm the savage beast within….., was seriously influencing what was appearing in my text. If I listened to particularly joyful music, I'd gravitate to being overly optimistic, when potentially, I had begun with considerable pessimism. I wasn't complicated in this regard. I went with the mood of the prevailing music. It was more important to be influenced by my passive surroundings, the inspirations of the work place I designed, with my assorted art pieces and small sculptures, and of course the wee beasties that live here…….the cats that love to sit with me in my office, watching the squirrels jumping from bough to bough in the yard. I so much prefer to be inspired these days, by the sound of the wind rushing over the lowland, across the lane, and hear the sound of rain and snow slapping against the window pane…..the whip and snap of the raspberry canes and branches of shrubs against the house, when the wind stirs from lakeside. I so enjoy the glad chirping of the birds in the bare lilac branches, and even the distant sound of a train at the crossing several blocks to the east. There is the cadence of a nearby clock that annoys me at first, but it becomes much less distinct and timely, the more I immerse in these simple pleasures of hearth and home.

In my last year working as a reporter, for the local press, I used to get up at 4 a.m. to write the council stories for the next day's newspaper production. I detested it more than any other job I'd ever done as a writer. I would work for at least three hours, and then drive to Bracebridge, to deliver Suzanne to the high school, where she taught, and then drop in my computer disc full of news copy. For the short time I did this, I absolutely required the hiatus of these more relaxing sessions, without any kind of deadline, or serious expectation on my part, to inform readers of current political events and assorted breaking news. It was back in about 1990 that these breaks from news writing became my steam-whistle moments, when I could compose as I wished, not as the publisher demanded. It has been an important outlet ever since. When I occasionally mentor a young aspiring writer, I tell them immediately, writing isn't just for profit, or to gain a big audience. It's nice, and a reward for hard work and creative enterprise, but not the end-all to why we feel the need to write…..something, anything. Each time a girlfriend broke up with me, or I drifted away from the relationship for a variety of commitment reasons, writing was the perfect outlet. If I was upset, angry, apprehensive, or frightened about some eventuality, I turned to the typewriter for temporary relief. I wouldn't still be turning to writing as a means of calming the nerves, if it didn't work for me. I've got a lot of typed pages that will never see the light of day, and I've made this clear to my family, should I spontaneously combust one day, and leave this written quagmire to their discretion. I will one day, after they have a chance to read them, burn them in the ceremonial fire pit, where they belong. They did their service and there is no advantage to me or anyone else, that these razor sharp opinions be released for public consumption.

When I look out this window, this afternoon, upon the melancholy of a grey, rainy, mist-covered Muskoka moor, I find myself very distant from the reality of those days of once, spent here, in this same chair, hammering out news copy for a buck. I have no desire to re-enter this dark abyss of writing, and will gladly suffer the pleasant indignity of being a poor writer……but one who celebrates the craft……not simply endures the task, as a means to an end.

Muskoka in January

AS JANUARY MATURES - A WINTER OF GENTLE CARESS

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

THERE IS A COLD, FOREWARNING, GUSTING OLD WIND THIS MORNING, YET THE TEMPERATURE HAS RISEN STEADILY SINCE SUNRISE. WHAT LOOKED TO BE A LENGTHY PERIOD OF VERY COLD DAYS, HAS APPARENTLY BEEN DISRUPTED BY THE INCONSISTENCIES OF THIS BRAND NEW YEAR. THERE MAY EVEN BE RAIN BEFORE THE WEEK IS OVER, AND FROM THE LONG-RANGE FORECAST, IT APPEARS AS IF THE ENTIRE MONTH WILL BE MUCH LESS THAN THE BRUTALITY WE EXPECT OF A MUSKOKA WINTER.

FOR THOSE WHO SUFFER THE EFFECTS OF LOW LIGHT AT THIS TIME OF THE YEAR, YESTERDAY (SUNDAY) OFFERED HOURS OF SPARKLING SUNSHINE. DESPITE THE COLD, IT WAS A CHEERFUL WINTER DAY IN MUSKOKA, AND THE KIDS WERE OUT PLAYING EARLY IN THE DAY. THIS NEIGHBORHOOD HAS MANY MORE YOUNGSTERS NOW, THAN IT HAS HAD IN THE PAST TEN YEARS, AND IT IS ALWAYS SUCH A PLEASANT CHORUS, TO HEAR THEM LAUGHING OVER IN THE WOODS, SLEDDING, AND FORT BUILDING. I ENJOY THE QUIET OF THE EVENINGS, BUT I THRIVE ON THE SOUNDS OF LIFE AROUND ME, AND SEEING ALL THE ACTIVITY GOING ON OUTDOORS, IS QUITE REJUVENATING TO MIND AND BODY. THE FACT WE HAVEN'T HAD BLIZZARDS AND WAISTE DEEP SNOW, HAS ALLOWED FOR TO WANDER THE PATHWAYS THROUGH THE BOG, AND AFFORDED THE YOUNGSTERS MORE ACCESS TO THE FOREST THAN MOST OTHER TRADITIONAL WINTERS.

I'VE JUST IGNITED ONE OF MY TWO DESK-TOP OIL LAMPS, AS MUCH FOR LIGHT AS EXTRA WARMTH THIS MORNING, AS THE ROOM HERE IS A LITTLE COOLER THAN I LIKE. I REALLY ENJOY WORKING BY THE LIGHT OF THIS TALL FARM LAMP, THAT PRODUCES QUITE A NICE GLOW. I PURCHASED IT AT AN ESTATE AUCTION QUITE A FEW YEARS AGO, AND I'M STILL USING THE ORIGINAL WICK. I NEED TWO OF THEM IN THE EVENING, BUT THERE IS ENOUGH LIGHT COMING THROUGH THE WINDOW NOW, THAT ONE EXTRA LIGHT SOURCE WILL ILLUMINATE THIS KEYBOARD NICELY. I AM CURRENTLY CAT-FREE BUT THEY HAVE A WAY OF READING MORTAL MINDS, YOU SEE, AND I EXPECT THEY'VE ALREADY PICKED UP ON THIS THOUGHT I'VE JUST HAD. SOMETIMES I START THIS WAY, AND WITHOUT REALLY NOTICING IT, BECAUSE OF THIS CADENCE OF FINGERS ON KEYBOARD, I'LL HAVE A LAP OF CATS ALL OF A SUDDEN WITHOUT FEELING THEIR ARRIVALS. I'LL SEE A BLUR OF FUR JUMP UP ON THE DESK TO GET TO THE WINDOW SILL, BUT AS FAR AS MY LAP, I JUST SORT OF EXPECT IT TO HAPPEN, AND FOCUS ON OTHER THINGS AT HAND.

Over the past ten years, I have written a great quantity of editorial material, dealing with this wonderful region of Ontario. In the past two months, I have dedicated myself to the task of portraying Muskoka, and the situation we have here at Birch Hollow, in Gravenhurst, as an inspiring, motivating, captivating place in which to write. Since we arrived in this South Muskoka community, in 1989, shifting ten miles south from Bracebridge, I have had the great fortune, as a regional writer / historian, to benefit from the natural surroundings of forest and lowland, so tantalizingly beautiful, framed by this window, in this humble bungalow above the landscape we call "The Bog." There has only been one half year period, since we moved in, that I refused to pen a single editorial piece. Not a poem, letter to the editor of the local press, a short story, historical essay, not even an envelope with a greeting card. I was furious at the publishing industry, and the way I had been treated in its employ. So it was my self imposed hiatus of anger. As ridiculous as it was, to punish myself for the disputes with publishers, gradually, looking out this same window, upon virtually the same scene, I found myself, at the very least, sitting in this chair and pondering what I might like to write…….should I ever resume where I left off.

I sat right here, in the yellow glow of this same oil lamp, as in that winter hiatus of 1991, and read Stephen Leacock's "Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town." The scene from here, a couple of cats, a pot of tea, and a good book, drained away that character stubbornness, and before long, I found reason to tap away again……just for fun, representing what this window framed of my Muskoka. I returned to writing because of this place, The Bog across the lane, and the embrace of neighborhood. I began writing what I call landscape pieces, for my own file, and not for publication. It took much longer to get interested in having this material published. When I did re-enter the print media, I did so on my own terms, with my own exit strategy, should I ever again fall out with the plethora of editors and publishers I seldom ever agreed with……on anything, except the needs of the readership to be informed and entertained. Once I began, I've only ever paused due to seasonal demands of the family antique business. From the fall harvest to the blooming of the lilacs in the front garden, I spend time wandering the Muskoka lakeland, and then pleasantly hole-up here, at my well worn desk, writing madly about the place on this earth that gives me such a creative push……that none of the composition seems anything akin to actual work. I enjoy it too much for it to be considered a workday effort. I'm too comfortable, and relaxed at this keyboard, to think of writing as anything but play…….just as the children stomp over snowy ground, and slide down the icy slopes on new sleds they got for Christmas. At times, you know, there's too much to write about…..too many reasons to use up all this lamp oil, staying at this desk until the dinner hour……depicting, portraying, a hinterland that has always been so giving to a writer in residence. On many occasions I return here after everyone has retired for the evening, and have spent hours looking out over the tranquil evening scene, moonlit on some nights, murky and only lamp-lit on others. I've watched storms pound this place, and felt wind rattling the whole structure of Birch Hollow, heard the deep cracks of subzero temperatures rattling the timbers, and I've never been, as they say, at a loss for words.

It is a dark morning, with a brisk wind, and I expect we will see some snow before long. I will be able to see the first tumble of wind-blown snow, coming up from the valley of Muskoka Bay, rising up over the treed hillside, and then settling down over this lowland of venerable old pines and leaning birches, stately maples and a huge oak near the opening of the path. Soon the snow will take over the scene, and it will paint this landscape as if by artist's brush, and the mood will change for the balance of the day. I have been studying Muskoka for decades, since arriving here with my family as a wide-eyed kid, in the winter of 1966. Ever since, I have been a willing captive, of its powerful aura, of which I contently refuse an escape. I am pleasantly compelled to visit those woods each day, and pack down the winding trail stretching into The Bog. I will dawdle and find things to study close-up, listen to the trickle of water still running under the ice, down in The Bog, and watch the wind as it caresses the old cattails, the brown summer grasses, and wavers the huge evergreen boughs on the far side of the basin. I will be distracted by the hoot of an owl, the flitting of squirrels chasing each other in the overhead limbs, and listen to the squawks of the crows on the dead tree, where they like to roost. Eventually, I will get chilled, and return to re-ignite this oil lamp, and sip hot tea, sit and admire the view from here……and eventually, tap again at the keyboard, as a painter returning to brush and paint, and hope, to be worthy of the task, to represent what I have witnessed of natural Muskoka……my mistress eternal.

At this morning's end…..I have cats Chutney and Zappa on my lap, wee Angus on the window sill….helping me enjoy the day.

Muskoka as Walden and A Cat Named Chutney

A SNOWY DAY AT LAST

FROM BIRCH HOLLOW, A SCENE OF OLD FASHION WINTER

MY WIFE SUZANNE, TOLD ME A NUMBER OF YEARS AGO NOW, THAT I SHOULD NOT INVOLVE MYSELF IN THE POLITICS OF LOCAL GOVERNANCE. OF COURSE, THIS CAME AFTER WE HAD TO MOUNT A BEHEMOTH EFFORT, TO SAVE THE WETLAND I'M LOOKING AT NOW…..THE PLEASANT LITTLE ACREAGE FILLING-IN SO BEAUTIFULLY, WITH THIS MORNING'S LIGHT DUSTING OF SNOW. WHEN IT BECAME KNOWN, THE TOWN OF GRAVENHURST WAS PLANNING TO ABANDON STEWARDSHIP OF THIS PARTICULAR WETLAND, AND FRINGE FOREST, WE HAD NO CHOICE IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD, AND THIS TOWN GENERALLY, BUT TO GET INVOLVED. TO SAVE IT, YOU SEE, FROM A PROPOSAL TO CUT IT INTO RESIDENTIAL LOTS. WHICH MEANT, BY ENGINEERING ALCHEMY, CULVERTING THE WATER, AND INFILLING EVERYTHING ELSE OF THIS NATURAL FILTERING BED. WHAT A GRAND PLAN. SO THAT IN ORDER TO SAVE IT FROM BECOMING SAWDUST AND RESIDENTIAL DIN, ON A SMALL BUT CRITICALLY IMPORTANT FILTER-ZONE (FOR THE WATER QUALITY OF MUSKOKA BAY), WE HAD TO BECOME POLITICAL, ON A FAST AND FURIOUS SCALE. HISTORY SHOWS THAT THE CITIZENS OF THIS COMMUNITY, STOOD THEIR GROUND, THIS GROUND, AND FOUGHT TOWN HALL TO A RESOUNDING VICTORY. UNTIL, THAT IS, THE TOWN RE-MUSTERS, AND TAKES ANOTHER EXPECTED SHOT AT THE PROPERTY WE CALL "THE BOG."

SUZANNE IS RIGHT HOWEVER, THAT I SHOULDN'T BE SO EASILY DRAWN INTO POLITICAL DEBATE GENERALLY. I REMIND HER THAT, IN THE CASE OF THE BOG, IF I HADN'T FOUND THAT GLARING HEADLINE IN THE MORNING COPY OF THE WEEKLY PRESS, I WOULD HAVE MISSED PRECIOUS TIME ORGANIZING A RETALIATION. SHE SUGGESTS THAT THIS WAS INDEED A NECESSARY REACTION, BUT THAT MOST OF THE BLOOD BOILING STUFF COMING FROM TOWN HALL, ISN'T GOING TO RESULT IN A "MISSING FOREST" OR A "PAVED OVER SLICE OF PARADISE." WHAT SHE'S TRYING TO SAY, IS THAT TOWN COUNCILS ALL OVER CANADA, AND NORTH AMERICA, FOR THAT MATTER, HAVE THE POTENTIAL OF ANGERING CONSTITUENTS ON PRETTY MUCH A DAILY BASIS, WITH THEIR ACTIONS AND RE-ACTIONS TO BUSINESS AS USUAL ISSUES. I MIGHT MUMBLE AND GRUMBLE ABOUT IT, BUT SHE IS RIGHT, AND THAT SHOULD I CONTEST EVERYTHING THAT COLLIDES WITH MY SENSE OF PROPRIETY, AND SENSIBILITY, I WOULD SURELY SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST……THAT'S RIGHT, GO UP IN SMOKE. SUZANNE COMING HOME FROM WORK TO FIND TWO STILL SMOLDERING SLIPPERS, WHERE I ONCE STOOD LOOKING OUT OVER THE BOG.

The problem, more than anything else, is that the town and its administrative bodies, and associated committees, rarely come up with anything these days, even remotely optimistic about the future in this community. There are folks who have been predicting scenarios of gloom for so long, one just expects to see the four horsemen of the apocalypse, clattering into the heart of town, in its final chapter. No matter how many rebuttals, there are doomsayers who just can't see beyond the clutter of their own lack of foresight. Regardless how much evidence to the contrary, and the number of citizens and their businesses doing well, and planning expansions, the doomsayers always seem to inspire the journalist's pen. It is an unfortunate period for our little town, where one finds a local council, unable to lead us from the doldrums of apparent misfortune…..we are told time and again, we suffer from these days.

As I look out onto this most beautiful scene this morning, the snow gracing the dark woodland with bright twinkling light, I feel sorry for any one, who comes out of their homes, and doesn't see how glorious it all is…..and how truly wonderful it is to live in one of Ontario's most celebrated hinterlands. I wonder if there is one local politician, this morning, who stepped out into this same winter landscape, and thought to themselves, what an uplifting place to live and work? What they see, what they experience, sense, is the most powerful, enduring, renewable resource they have…..we all have, as a foundation for the future. As one of the most alluring tourist regions, and one of the most significant vacation retreats in the province, we can see this morning, why……..and the reason we should start every morning with the knowledge, that no matter what else goes right or wrong, our home district is a most desirable, inspiring place.

Suzanne is right of course. I shouldn't read the newspapers any more. I get frustrated each week, it seems, by the revelations that we are in a depressed local economy, and that hardships abound, and that our town council has no clue about how to fix what apparently ails us. I don't find much of encouragement these days, coming from the town, town hall, or the associations connected to the present administration. Folks who have decided it is less of a height to fall from, with a pessimistic outlook, and less strenuous to stay the course, than to blaze a trail. I live an inspired life because I can draw so much contentment, from places like The Bog, and drives along Muskoka Beach Road, through forest and pasture, farmland and the cathedral maples, that are such remarkable places through the four seasons here in Muskoka. I can re-charge any time of the day or night, by immersing myself in the nature of Muskoka. Not as an escape. As an elixir, that will remind me, that we have so much to be thankful for, living in this beautiful place on earth……that should be the catalyst for great optimism and advancement in the local economy. Yet, it is treated like a pretty face, and little more.

I won't give up reading the local press, or decide that it is unimportant to follow local council business. I will find myself, at times, having the urge to run for mayor, and change outlooks at town hall……and throughout the municipality, toward a great appreciation of our present resources. I'm unsure, however, that I could in any lasting way, make the difference I desire…….as it appears so much easier today, to find acceptance for status quo, and resignation, than the raw enthusiasm, to build upward from optimism.

No, I will never run for mayor, or council for that matter. I will continue to plea for a more optimistic direction from our stewards, and beg those naysayers, and the press that seems to validate them, to appreciate the reality, depression and anxiety are not tools for building……they are the crowbars of destruction if left to their own devices. For a community, the exact opposite must prevail, in order to attract investment not pity.

I shall relax here, and watch the steady, but gentle snow, adorn this beautiful Muskoka landscape, and think, as I do every single day here, just how charmed a life it is, to live in such a naturally powerful place…….that should inspire us all, to see life for what it really is…….a part of nature's cycle. We're here for a short time. We should make it a good time. And not everything is about loss or profit. If you ignore your surroundings, this is, by all means, an insurmountable loss.

Muskoka as Walden and A Cat Named Chutney

ON THE VERGE OF RAIN

HOLED-UP PLEASANTLY AT BIRCH HOLLOW THIS MORNING, PURRING CAT IN LAP

IT IS A DAMP, DULL, POTENTIALLY RAIN-FILLED DAY, STILL MORE LIKE EARLY MARCH, THAN MID-JANUARY. A NEW YEAR. A STRANGE LULL IN THE NORMAL WINTER FARE, FOR OUR REGION, WHICH BY NOW WOULD, SHOULD BE COLD, SNOW-BURDENED, AND DANGEROUSLY WINDSWEPT WITH A TWANG OF BITTER COLD. IT IS A SMALL ACT OF NATURE'S MERCY, BECAUSE EVERYTHING, EVERY BODY, EVERY AUTOMOBILE, HOUSE, BUILDING AND WATERLINE IS SUSCEPTIBLE WHEN THE TEMPERATURES DIP DANGEROUSLY DURING THE WINTER MONTHS. HAVING EXPERIENCED THE HORROR OF FROZEN WATERLINES AND SEPTIC SYSTEM, IN THE PAST, I TAKE PRECAUTIONS VERY SERIOUSLY HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW. THERE'S NOTHING SO DAMNING AS AN EXCAVATION IN THE MIDST OF CANADIAN WINTER. MY BIGGEST CONCERN NOW IS THAT WE'LL GET HIT WITH A SUDDEN COLD SNAP, THAT WITHOUT ADEQUATE SNOW COVER AS INSULATION, MIGHT JUST FREEZE DOWN INTO THOSE VULNERABLE WATERLINES IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD. I'VE SEEN IT HAPPEN BEFORE IN THE REGION, WHERE WHOLE STREETS WERE AFFECTED. SNOW COVER IS A PRETTY GOOD INSULATOR. WE DON'T HAVE AN ADEQUATE LAYER, AT THIS POINT, AND IT WOULD BE GREAT TO RECEIVE SNOW THIS WEEK, JUST AS INSURANCE.

I have just taken off my shoes, and jacket, and have found this chair as desk-side still warm from the two cats that were sleeping upon the cushion. I don't mind. It looks to be a quiet day, working in this office, overlooking The Bog. There will be few serious or lengthy distractions, except if some travelers should choose today to visit, or one of my colleagues decides to phone. Other than this, I will be able to work away for most of the day, until I pick Suzanne up after school. She's a teacher. She's quite envious that I can sit and look out this window all day, sipping tea, making copious notes about things I see, and being cuddled by these animals that call Birch Hollow home. There is always cat nearby. Chutney, the runt of the litter (that a stray gave birth to, in our garden shed, of all places), is still a very small, thin critter, that needs almost constant affection, and a warm lap to curl up in. I'm her possession during the day, until Suzanne comes home. We literally can't sit down, except by excluding all cats, that Chutney, at least, doesn't jump up, and "nest" as if this is our mortal purpose on earth. I don't really mind, and I find the purring very calming. The problem is, and it's the one reason I won't listen to music while I write…….that Chutney's little bodily noises and warmth start making me feel tired when I'm not. She can put me to sleep while hunched over the keyboard. I'll sit back, close my eyes to refresh, from the work at hand, and then wake myself up, with my head snapping onto the chair-back. I'm all for being calm but Chutney makes it too easy to relax, at a time I need to be a little keyed-up in order to produce editorial copy. I sometimes will shut the basement door to stop her intrusion, especially if I'm facing some quickly approaching deadline. If I'm just working on a little landscape piece, I don't mind her presence, or the others, that like to sit on the window ledge to watch the squirrels, and birds flitting from branch to branch in the lilacs. I find this scene outdoors today, to be amazingly satisfying, and generously gentle……and regardless if the rest of January turns out to be a horror-unfolding, this respite has been welcome. Despite what it isn't offering today, in the dramatic clime of Canadian winter, it is offering me an opportunity to exploit its solitude and calm, and so I shall.

The story here today, is the apprehension of the penalty we will pay, for having this kindly weather, for so long into the winter season. Oldtimers will claim, that when a winter starts as late as mid-January, it will be bestial as comeuppance. I have seen and experienced this before, so it is not far fetched. It is tradition, generally accepted by most Muskokans who know anything about nature, and the outdoors, that winter may be postponed but never cancelled. History has it that winter can snap to attack, as the cobra, and sting when our defenses are the weakest. We must stay strong, to face this eventuality. Be strong for storm and snow, and deep, deep cold. I must stay awake, but I sense it to be a losing battle, as Chutney has snuck through into my room, and commenced purring upon my lap. What failure is this……the writer being tamed by a cat. The runt of the litter. But what power she possesses, to change a story line, influence an editorial……..when no publisher ever could. This tiny beast is a good friend……that asks so little in return for a little comfort zone.

January Sun

THE LIGHT OF WINTER - A KINDNESS WE MUST NOT GET USED TO

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

FOR THOSE WHO SUFFER FROM THE DANKNESS OF WINTER, THE LIGHT DEPRIVATION OF A TYPICAL CANADIAN WINTER, THIS JANUARY IS CERTAINLY A BLESSING TO BEHOLD.

IT IS SUCH A NICE RESPITE ON TOP OF A RESPITE, YOU MIGHT SAY, HAVING THIS MODERATE CLIMATE, ABUTTING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, THAT THIS YEAR, HAPPENED TO BE WITHOUT THE SNOW DRIFTS AND WICKED COLD WE EXPECT FROM MOTHER NATURE. THIS MORNING IS SO CALM AND BRIGHT, ONE BYPASSES THE FACT IT IS ALMOST MINUS TEN DEGREES.

HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, THE WORK ETHIC IS POOR, THE KEYBOARD ISN'T GOING TO GET MUCH OF A WORKOUT THIS MORNING, AND THE ONLY URGE TODAY, IS TO GET OUT ONTO THE OPEN ROAD, OR WOODLAND TRAIL, AND ENJOY WHAT NATURE HAS SO THOUGHTFULLY GENERATED. MAYBE "THOUGHTFULLY" ISN'T THE BEST CHOICE OF WORDS.

ONCE AGAIN, I ACKNOWLEDGE THE DIFFICULTY THIS MODERATE WEATHER MEANS, TO THE FOLKS WHO DEPEND ON WINTER RECREATION, TO BOOST THEIR BUSINESS ECONOMY. IT IS MOST DEFINITELY ODD, IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD, SO CLOSE TO MUSKOKA BAY, NOT TO HEAR THE MYRIAD SNOWMOBILES DASHING ACROSS THE ICE. YOU CAN ONLY SEE A FEW SNOWMOBILES ON TRAILERS, BEING PULLED THROUGH TOWN, AND ON THE HIGHWAY, AND WE'RE NOT EVEN SEEING CARS WITH SKIS MOUNTED ON RACKS. I SAW A CAR PULLING A BOAT TRAILER YESTERDAY, AND I'VE HEARD THAT ON OPEN WATER, WATERCRAFT ARE STILL BEING USED BY CONTRACTORS. IT'S GOOD FOR THEM, BUT NOT SO GOOD FOR THOSE WHO DEPEND ON BROKEN SNOWMOBILES, AS REPAIR TECHNICIANS, TO SUPPORT THEIR FAMILIES.

WHILE I WANDER ALONG THIS LIGHT AND SHADOW ENHANCED, ICED-OVER WINTER TRAIL, DOWN TOWARD THE BOG, I DO SO WITH THE KNOWLEDGE, THAT A CANADIAN WINTER, AND WHAT WE KNOW OF REGIONAL WEATHER FOR THIS TIME OF THE YEAR, WE MUST TAKE THIS AS A GIFT, A REPRIEVE FROM WHAT WILL STILL BE A LONG HAUL TOWARD SPRING. IT IS JUST SO NICE TO BE ABLE TO STAND OUT HERE, LOOKING AT THE LEANING BIRCHES, AND VENERABLE OLD PINES AND MAPLES, AND HEAR THE RUN-OFF WATER, DRAINING THROUGH THE LOWLAND, AND REALIZE IT IS NOT THE FALL, AND NOT THE SPRING, AND THERE ARE TIMES IN LIFE, WHEN ONE QUESTIONS-LESS, AND ENJOYS-MORE. THIS IS THE TIME FOR ENJOYING WHAT WE HAVE BEEN AFFORDED BY AN UNPREDICTABLE NATURE. THERE'S A FOUL WIND-A-BLOWIN' SOMEWHERE OUT THERE, AND IT WILL FIND US SOONER OR LATER.

IT'S HARD TO BELIEVE WE'VE WHIPPED PAST THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, AND WE'RE HEADING TOWARD FEBRUARY. I GUESS BEING BUSY HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT. TRY TO FIND SOME TIME TODAY, TO ENJOY THE SUN AND MILD TEMPERATURES, BEFORE WINTER FINDS US GETTING COMPLACENT WITH THIS EASE OF LIVING. LET THE SUN INTO YOUR SOUL.

"ISN'T IT HEAVENLY?" MY MOTHER WOULD SAY, ON A DAY LIKE THIS.

GOD REST HER SOUL.