From Sunny Pasture, Misty Moor, to Raging Torrent

The rapids above the Bracebridge Falls - photo by Fred Schulz

A SPRING MOTOR TRIP, THROUGH SUN DRENCHED PASTURES, OVER MISTY HILLSIDES, AWAKENING FORESTS, AND A FLOODED LANDSCAPE

     IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SUNNY DAY. I HAD BEEN WORKING ON A HISTORY FOR A LOCAL RECREATIONAL FACILITY, THAT HAD HIRED ME BACK IN THE FALL, AND I CONFESS, THAT AS I'M NEARING THE DEADLINE FOR ITS COMPLETION, I HAVE LITTLE APPETITE FOR SITTING AT THIS DESK ALL DAY, FINISHING THE MANUSCRIPT. I AM AT LEAST AFFORDED A BEAUTIFUL VIEW OVER THE BOG, THE LOWLAND ACROSS THE LANE FROM OUR HOME AT BIRCH HOLLOW. BUT IT IS OF NO COMFORT TODAY, AS THE SUN AND WARM AIR ARE BECKONING ME OUTSIDE.

    AND FINALLY, AFTER HOURS OF DENYING TEMPTATION ITS RIGHTFUL COURSE, I TOOK A STROLL OUT ON OUR LOCAL MOOR, TO SEE HOW THE SPRING IS COMING ALONG, HERE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA. WHAT A PEACEFUL SOJOURN, EACH TIME I ARRIVE HERE. THERE ARE SO MANY NATURAL NOISES OCCURRING HERE, THAT AFTER AWHILE, IT BECOMES ALMOST DEAFENING, EVEN AS DRIED LEAVES RUSTLE IN THE SOFT MORNING BREEZE, WASHING OVER THE SUNKEN LANDSCAPE. STANDING ABOVE THE TINY CATARACT THAT LOOKS LIKE MOLTEN SILVER, FLOWING OVER BARK-LESS BRANCHES, GIVES EVERY APPEARANCE OF BEING ARTIFICIAL, OR AN ARTIST'S DEPICTION; BUT NOT THE REAL DECLINE OF RUN-OFF WATER, THAT SHOULD NOW, LOOK BROWN OR BLACK IN THE INTENSE SUNLIGHT. IT IS THE PLAY OF LIGHT AND REFLECTION, AND THE POSITION OF THE SUN OVERHEAD, THAT MAKES THE COLORATION LOOK DIFFERENT, HAVING MORE SILVER IN IT THAN BLUE OR GREEN.

     Once again, as I had experienced yesterday, I couldn't help thinking about those residents of Bracebridge, who have been adversely affected by the most recent flood waters, from the overflow of both the north and south branches of the Muskoka River. I imagine they would very much prefer to wander along a landscape like this, at my beck and call today; instead of the grim reality, the crest of the flood is yet to come, and the encroachment on buildings much more intrusively, than over the past week. I decided to take another motor-trip back to my old hometown, ten miles north, and along the way, up the Muskoka Beach Road, I was both heartily enthralled, and calmed, by the pervasive, pleasant solitude, yet subtle colorless beauty, of the awakening forests and meadows; lowlands and highlands along its snaking path; overhung by cathedral maples and tall pines, leaning birches and stark rock outcroppings, with small pockets of snow left in the shadows, soon to melt away into the tiny creeks criss-crossing the picturesque topography, from horizon to horizon.

     In only a few miles, I have come open my first open view of the swollen Muskoka River, as it currents aggressively over its banks, and onto the roads and properties of abutting residents. When you get close to the Bracebridge Falls, the roar you hear today, isn't calming whatsoever. As a fledgling author, I used to sit at its base, for days on end, writing about the history of Bracebridge. Today it is a cruel and frightening roar, that shows the potential of nature to shape and remove what falls in its path. It is an angry scene, this huge cataract fanning out, beating over the top of the dam, smashing against the concrete break-wall below, as I have never seen it before. There is beauty even in this display of power, and re-written history, because of the consequence we are made aware of, by the media, of just how much damage the flooding has already inflicted up and down stream. There is no comfort at this moment, recognizing that the river is just reclaiming what it has held before, in pre-history….because now there are mortals directly in harm's way.

     After awhile, the sound becomes less abrasive, and threatening, almost as if the voyeur can sense the danger passing, as wishful thinking plays tricks on the mind. At other times, it's as if a spirit speaks through the roar, reminding us that nature has no contract to abide….no rules to follow, no sensitivity to bestow, friendship to rekindle…..apology to offer, for doing what has been happening since the beginning of time. It is a stirring scene, and one to behold with great respect. It may never be seen like this for a hundred years. Or it might well return next year, worse than it is today. It is this vast mystery of nature, a watershed, that attracts the attention of disbelievers, who will, as anecdote, a thousand times today, say, "I've never seen anything like this before." They may be correct, when they say this to other voyeurs with cameras focused on the frothing cataract, and the turbulence of Bracebridge Bay Park. A few old-timers, I've heard chatting beside me, have already given the dates, to the best of their knowledge, of times it has been just as bad….like when Hurricane Hazel hit Ontario back in the 1950's. Others just look and say nothing, spellbound by nature's power.

     On the way home, I drove slowly, with the window all the way down, hoping to catch a scent of the sweet grass that grows in several pockets of the woodland along Muskoka Beach Road. Here was a more pleasant, amicable nature, warming the rocks on the hillsides, and giving the Trilliums the light needed for their spring revival. It was all so silent, peaceful and restorative. But you don't forget the way it can become, in a heartbeat or less; that manic change of mood, when a waterfall becomes something grander, more awesome and dangerous. I have seen both sides today, on this casual trip through the awakening countryside of South Muskoka.

     We send our best wishes and prayers to those affected, and trapped in their homes and cottages, as a result of the flooding situation presently affecting Muskoka.