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.

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN

A WARMER WINTER - BUT IT ISN'T OVER YET

IN MUSKOKA, WE ALWAYS PREPARE FOR WINTER AS IF IT WILL BE LIFE THREATENING. SERIOUSLY COLD, WITH MANY STORMS, A GREAT DEAL OF SNOW, AND THE WIND….OH, THE WIND. WHETHER THE PROGNOSTICATORS ARE RIGHT WITH THEIR PREDICTIONS FOR THE WINTER AHEAD, OR NOT, WE PAY ATTENTION TO THE PRECEDENTS OF THE PAST…..AND THERE ARE MANY.

THIS PAST SUMMER SEASON, ESPECIALLY IN THE MONTH OF AUGUST, THE CHIPMUNKS AND SQUIRRELS AROUND BIRCH HOLLOW, WERE IN A NEAR-FRENZY, TRYING TO BUILD UP A STORE OF PROVISIONS FOR THE WINTER SEASON. WHILE THE GREED FACTOR IS SIGNIFICANT FOR THESE CREATURES, AND THEY WILL STEAL EVERY LAST MORSEL OF BIRD SEED, IF AFFORDED THE OPPORTUNITY, THIS YEAR WAS ONE FOR THE RECORD BOOKS. AND IT WAS ALL AROUND, THAT I WITNESSED A MORE AGGRESSIVE CHARACTER, FROM THE ACTIONS OF THESE MODEST LITTLE BEASTS. SUZANNE ALSO POINTS OUT THAT THIS IS THE FIRST YEAR WE DIDN'T HEAR THE FAMILIAR SOUND OF ACORNS HITTING THE GROUND, FROM THE TREE JUST ACROSS THE LANE. THE SQUIRRELS WERE HARVESTING THEM OFF THE TREE IN THIS SAME FRENZY. SO THIS IS WHAT WE LOOK AT, TO DETERMINE JUST HOW COLD AND LONG THE WINTER SEASON WILL BE HERE IN SOUTH MUSKOKA. WHETHER WE'RE RIGHT ABOUT THIS, WELL, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO GO BACK ON THESE NOTES FROM BIRCH HOLLOW, IN MAY, TO COMPARE WHAT WE PREDICTED, AS TO WHAT ACTUALLY TURNS OUT. KEEP IN MIND, WE'RE JUST REPORTING WHAT THE CRITTERS WERE DOING THIS SUMMER…..NOT THAT WE'RE PART GROUND-HOG OURSELVES.

THE PROBLEM FOR MUSKOKA, AS A REGION, IS WHEN GEORGIAN BAY HASN'T CHILLED THE WAY IT SHOULD BE…..TO THE POINT OF A THICK ICE COVERING. WARMER, OPEN WATER TENDS TO INSPIRE SNOW EVENTS, UNDER THE RIGHT CIRCUMSTANCES, AND THIS YEAR THERE HASN'T BEEN THE CONSISTENT COLD, DAY AFTER DAY, TO MAKE THIS CHANGE. SO IN THE WINTER YET TO COME, WE'RE LIKELY TO RECEIVE SOME PRETTY MEAN, SHORT-LIVED SNOW EVENTS, THAT MAY NOT BRING THE INTENSE COLD, BUT I THINK SNOW LEVELS WILL GET PRETTY SUBSTANTIAL OVERALL…..JUST NOT HUGE AMOUNTS THAT LAST ON THE GROUND. THIS WON'T BE THE BEST YEAR FOR SNOWMOBILERS, AND AS A REGION, THAT VERY MUCH NEEDS THIS INFUSION OF RECREATION, WE WILL EXPERIENCE SOME INEVITABLE ECONOMIC LOSSES.

IT'S STILL VERY BEAUTIFUL HERE, AT BIRCH HOLLOW, LOOKING OUT AT THE ICE AND SNOW COVERED WOODLANDS ACROSS THE LANE. IT IS A VERY INSPIRING WALK THROUGH THE HARDWOODS, AND THE BURDENED OLD PINES, THE BOUGHS WEIGHED DOWN HEAVILY……WITH CONSIDERABLE EVIDENCE OF LIMBS BEING SNAPPED OFF BY THE HEAVY LOAD. IT IS A VERY SERENE VISTA, AND WITHOUT THE COLD, IT IS PLEASANT TO JUST STAND OUT HERE, ON THE BRINK OF THE BOG, AND ENJOY THE BEAUTIFUL PANORAMA. YET THE VOYEUR MISSES THE DRAMATIC SHIFTS, WHEN THE SNOW AND WIND TUMBLE TOGETHER OVER THE FAR HILLSIDE, AND TRANSFORM THIS PLACE INTO A MORE DYNAMIC, EXCITING ADVENTURE. BUT THIS IS OKAY FOR THE ROMANTIC….THE POET ME, AS TODAY I HAVE ONLY REQUIRED A LIGHT JACKET, AND MITTS, TO STAND OUT HERE IN THIS MUSKOKA WINTER, OF JANUARY 2011.

IT WILL ARRIVE SOONER OR LATER, AS IT ALWAYS DOES. THIS THIN JACKET WILL THUSLY BE RETIRED TEMPORARILY, FOR THE THICKER, HOODED GARB, AND FUR HAT WITH EAR-FLAPS, HUNG ON THE ADJACENT HOOK. TAKE A WALK YOURSELF, AND SAMPLE THIS AMAZING LANDSCAPE. IT'S GOOD FOR WHAT AILS YOU.

THE SOJOURN -

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN - RE-VISITED

I MUST ADMIT SADLY, THE BUSY DAYS OF THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, AND THE TRANSPORTATION DEMANDS ON AN OLD ROADIE, FOR THE FAMILY MUSIC BUSINESS, HAS KEPT ME AWAY FROM THE WOODLANDS, FOR THE PAST SEVERAL WEEKS. THE AFTER-NEW YEARS RAIN, THEN SNOW, AND THE COLD DAYS AFTER, HAVE MADE THIS FOREST ABOVE THE BOG APPEAR ENCHANTED….SCULPTED. IT IS A BEAUTIFUL SCENE FROM MY OFFICE WINDOW, AT BIRCH HOLLOW, AND EVEN MORE SPECTACULAR, TAKING A WALK THIS MORNING WITH MY CANINE FRIEND BOSKO. MY MOTHER MERLE WOULD HAVE CALLED THIS A WINTER WONDERLAND. AND I WOULD HAVE TRIED SOMETHING LESS SENTIMENTAL, IN RESPONSE. BUT SHE WOULD BE RIGHT. THAT IS EXACTLY THE PROPER CAPTION, FOR A PHOTOGRAPH OF THIS FROZEN LANDSCAPE.

THE YOUNGSTERS ARE STILL OFF FOR THE CHRISTMAS VACATION, AND EVEN EARLY THIS MORNING, THERE IS THE SOUND OF LAUGHING AND SLEDS BEING DRAGGED ALONG THE ICE, TOWARD THE NEIGHBORHOOD HILLSIDE. IT'S NICE TO HEAR. IT IS A LITTLE MILDER THIS MORNING, AND THE ICE AND SNOW VENEER ON THE TREE BOUGHS, IS STARTING TO BREAK OFF, AND SHATTER DOWN ONTO THE BRUSH BELOW, MAKING A SOFT THUD, AND WHAT MIGHT BE CONFUSED WITH BREAKING GLASS AGAINST A HARD SURFACE. IF THE SHARDS HIT THE SOFT SNOW, THERE IS JUST A LOW IMPACT, AS IF A HAT FELL OFF A TRAVELLER, AND LANDED IN THE NEW SNOW FROM LAST NIGHT. NO LOUDER. IF THE LARGE LENGTH OF ICE HITS THE SMALL TREES AND SHRUBS BENEATH, IT MAKES A SIGNIFICANT NOISE…..THAT DOES MAKE YOU PONDER MOMENTARILY, WHAT THAT WOULD FEEL LIKE ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD.

THE WHOLE LANDSCAPE IS SO PICTURESQUE, AND EVEN IF IT WAS SUB-ZERO FOR A NUMBER OF DAYS, THIS SCENE IS JUST AS WARMING AS WHEN THE SUN BREAKS THROUGH THE CLOUD COVER, AND SPARKLES WITH DIAMOND LIGHT, DOWN ON THIS LOOSE LAYER OF SNOW-COVER. IT IS A GENTLE, QUIET PLACE THIS MORNING, THAT BECKONS THE PHILOSOPHERS AND POETS TO STAND WITH IT, AND LISTEN TO THE WIND RISING OVER THE FAR HILLSIDE…..SINGING THROUGH THE EVERGREEN BOUGHS.

AS ALWAYS, IT IS A PLEASANT RESPITE FROM THE BUSY WORLD, OF POST CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION.

ESCAPE INTO THE WOODS -

THE BOUGHS ARE A BEAUTIFUL BURDEN OF ICE AND NEW SNOW, AND HANG DOWN IN A SUCCESSION OF ARCHES, AS IF FROM SOME WONDERLAND SET, FOR THEATRE OR THE BALLET. THEY ACTUALLY IMPEDE PASSAGE ALONG THE PATH TO THE BOG, AND I GENTLY SHAKE THEM FREE OF THE SNOW BURDEN. WHAT A TRANQUIL PLACE THIS IS…..FROM THE NEAR THUNDEROUS ACTIVITIES THIS MORNING. ALL THE HEAVY, "ALL BELLS AND WHISTLES" REMOVAL GEAR, IS BEING EMPLOYED, AND EVEN THOUGH A SMALL AMOUNT OF SNOW FELL OVER-NIGHT, THERE IS AN OVER-ZEALOUS, MANIC NEED TO CLEAN IT ALL UP…..AS IF LIFE AND COMMERCE WOULD GRIND TO A HALT WITH THIS TINY AMOUNT OF NEW SNOW AFTER THE RECENT MELT. THERE ARE SOME WHO WOULD LIKE TO MELT IT ALL, IF THERE WAS SUCH A PRODUCT. I FEEL QUITE OUT OF PLACE, ENJOYING THIS SNOWY LANDSCAPE.

Yet with all the snow removal equipment, blowing and pummeling banks on top of banks, inside this snowy woodland, not even to the brink of The Bog, there is a precious solitude that is what winter is all about. As a population we endure the winter. Remove everso quickly, the snow that inconveniences our expectations for movement, and clear arteries, without having much appreciation at all, for the magnificent vista in front…..beside, and beyond. It is breathtaking. A scene from Narnia, when one might expect a team and sleigh to come bounding over the far hillside, and race along the trail that connects the highland, across the now icy lowland. Even the neighborhood kids, this morning, are dutifully employed to shovel and haul the weekly garbage to the curb. I'm not at all sure they have any real appreciation for the spectacular qualities of a Canadian winter…….upon a Muskoka lakeland. What a shame to think they will grow up having very little interest in the enchantments of nature, right in front of them. Do they have appreciation for nature at all…..except disdain for its frequent inconveniences?

This is a splendid solitude. I can only hear the slight roar and bumping of a township plow, and the minor wheeze of a snowblower somewhere down the road. This is a very forgiving place, for artists and poets, and those not adverse to a little magic in their lives. Pity there are so few to celebrate the winter season, as it has landed here this morning.

WHAT IT ALL MEANS - ENVIRONMENTAL CHANGE - AND THE PLACES IN NATURE WE HOLD DEAREST

I WATCHED A GENTLEMAN AND HIS SON DUMPING GARBAGE IN THIS BEAUTIFUL PLACE. WHEN I CONFRONTED HIM, HIS RESPONSE, LIKE ALL THE OTHERS I'VE CAUGHT IN THE ACT OF ILLEGAL DUMPING, RESPONDED, "I DIDN'T KNOW I COULDN'T!" I ASKED IF HE OWNED THE PROPERTY. HE DIDN'T. I ASKED IF HE KNEW HOW LONG IT WOULD TAKE A PLASTIC OIL CONTAINER TO DISINTEGRATE INTO THE SOIL. "I DON'T KNOW" HE SAID. I GET THAT A LOT AROUND HERE.

I STOPPED A LOCAL HANDYMAN, DOING THE SAME THING ONE DAY, AFTER WATCHING HIM MAKE REPEATED RUNS INTO THE WOODS, TO DUMP YARD DEBRIS. "THE OWNER SAID I COULD," HE DEFENDED, OF HIS ACTION. I SAID, "DOES THE MAN YOU ARE WORKING FOR OWN THE WOODLAND HERE?" I RESPONDED. "I DON'T KNOW," HE SNARLED. I SAID, "WELL, IF YOU AREN'T SURE ABOUT IT, WHY DON'T YOU ASK SOMEONE, WHETHER IT IS OKAY TO DUMP REFUSE IN THE FOREST?" "MAYBE I WILL," HE ANSWERED. "IN THE MEANTIME," I SAID, "UNTIL YOU FIND OUT IF HE OWNS IT OR NOT, WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK INTO THE WOODS, AND SCOOP UP ALL THE CRAP YOU'VE JUST DUMPED….JUST IN CASE HE DOESN'T OWN IT." I SUPPOSE THIS IS WHEN HE TWIGGED TO THE IDEA, I KNEW MORE ABOUT THIS PROPERTY, "THE BOG," THAN HE DID. SO HE DID MAKE A MINOR CLEAN-UP, AND I MADE A MINOR CALL TO THE BYLAW OFFICE TO REPORT HIM. FEIGNING IGNORANCE IS SOMETHING SPECIAL THESE DAYS, IT REALLY IS, AND THERE ARE ABOUT A DOZEN FOLKS, SOME FROM OTHER NEIGHBORHOODS, CONTINUING TO DUMP WHAT THEY DON'T WANT IN THIS SMALL BUT UNIQUE LITTLE BOGLAND, TUCKED NEATLY INTO THE URBAN ENVIRONS OF GRAVENHURST.

AS I HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT FREQUENTLY IN THESE BLOGS, AND OTHERS, I HAVE A VERY LOW THRESHOLD WHEN IT COMES TO FOLKS CONTAMINATING THIS BEAUTIFUL REGION, WITH A WIDE ARRAY OF GARBAGE AND ALL SORTS OF TOXIC WASTE. I WAS CONVINCED ONE DAY, THAT SOMEONE ON OUR STREET HAD BEEN DUMPING LEFTOVER PAINT INTO THE BOG. I COULDN'T PROVE IT, BUT I WATCHED THE CHAP IN QUESTION, EVERY TIME HE ENTERED THE FOREST PATH, FOR THE SLIGHTEST EVIDENCE HE HAD SOMETHING TO DRAIN INTO THE WATERWAY. SUZANNE WORRIES ABOUT ME CATCHING SOMEONE LIKE THAT, AND GETTING INTO SOME SORT OF SCRAPE. THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN, BECAUSE EVERY PERSON I'VE CONFRONTED SO FAR, WAS IN ENOUGH CRAP FOR ILLEGAL DUMPING, AND GETTING CAUGHT, THAT THE LAST THING THEY'D WANT, IS AN ASSAULT CHARGE HEAPED ON.

IT'S ONE THING TO FIND CHIP BAGS AND POP CANS LITTERING THE PATHWAY, AND ROADSIDE, BUT QUITE ANOTHER TO FIND A LOAD OF OLD SHINGLES DUMPED INTO A POOL OF WATER NEAR A STORM SEWER OUTLET. I'VE SEEN SOME STRANGE OCCURRENCES HERE, AND EVERY WEEK I FIND SOMETHING TOSSED THAT SHOULD HAVE GONE TO THE DUMPSITE.

As for environmental concerns these days, I've never been more anxious and worried about the governance of my country. I have always been a proud Canadian, and that didn't hinge on whether or not I supported the government in office. The way we have become known to the rest of the world, frankly, makes me feel let down by the people who should be representing us,……leading us, and protecting our integrity in all the international areas we expect as its citizens. I'm seeing a lot of parallels these days, between the government of the day, and the folks who think it's okay to dump crap into the wetlands…..because it's the cheapest, easiest thing to do. They rationalize as well, that they didn't know they were doing anything wrong. They figured, hey, "it's just a lowland, full of water and snakes and stuff." When I see their faces, and let them hang themselves by poorly chosen explanations, I can't help but think they've never been told otherwise…..they have no idea what damage they're causing by their indifference. Apparently, our government acts pretty much the same, and I would never turn to them, to sort out an environmental crisis.

Like this bogland, that not so long was the target of our own town, that planned to sell it for residential lots, it will continue to be in environmental crisis as long as we have the arseholes, who are too cheap and stupid, to dump their refuse at the landfill site. The environment of Canada. Well, we've got a problem. I'm counting on the citizens of this country to force the matter…..and they will in time…..but as it may already be too late to save the planet……I'll just settle, to try and save The Bog.

MUSKOKA AS WALDEN -

SPRING AS WINTER - WHEN WILL THE SNOW COME TO STAY?

It feels today, as I'm lazily strolling through an English moor, as if beneath the hillside perch of an ancient manor house, like Wuthering Heights, or Bracebridge Hall….the gray sky with misty rain, makes this scene hauntingly similar to the countryside of old England…..not Muskoka, which should by now been in the icy grasp of early winter. I should be shivering here, in the open, sneaking my chin down into my upturned collar. Instead it is not even a necessity of apparel, to don cap and sweater, to stand here on the woodland slope, overlooking The Bog. Instead of snow, there is a wafting, eerie mist laying low over the dry cattails, silvering over the field grasses still wavering in the shallow wind of a Muskoka morning.

We have had snow on several occasions this winter season already, but the temperature has not been low enough to maintain it on the ground. Without the cold temperatures, over many days, there is little chance of forming ice down into the soil, which keeps the snow frozen on the ground when it does fall. Today instead of hearing the snow hitting the outstretched evergreen boughs, and settling on the mounds of folded-over lowland grasses, I can hear the myriad tiny cataracts, along the snaking course of the little creeks that cut side to side, and lengthways toward the lake. From even the highest part of the backside, you can not clearly see these crystalline water declines, with the matting of grasses, hilled-up over decades of growth and decline. It is quite a sensation, to stand here and listen to all the subtle but intrusive noise, from these water-courses, causing at times, the feeling the whole landscape is eroding into water, and that the hillside might soon erode away, and fall into the muddy water racing over the declines toward the lakeshore.

Some voyeurs here, might think it uncomfortable to stand out here today. It is not pleasant weather-wise, yet because there is no snow, and temperatures are well above zero, at a wintery time of year, this watcher in the woods, is rather pleased by the spectacle, of nature so barren and beautifully rough hewn. No flowers, no fanning fern leaves, no butterflies or hummingbirds. No leaves on the hardwoods, no mushrooms flourishing at the base of birches. Just a vista of perceived melancholy, which isn't really, but to the casual passerby, it is less captivating than if it had a canopy of December snow. Even now that a heavier rain has begun to fall over this bogland, and our home at Birch Hollow, it is still a most alluring landscape, haunted, spirited, and strikingly poetic to those of passion for the supernatural; the paranormal that seems to abound in the minds of creative thinkers, story writers and spinners. This is a paradise of contradictions, between what is naturally beautiful, and what is appealing to the eye…..so that the sentimental heart won't be disappointed by the blandness beyond.

I will take this remarkable sojourn, in celebration of what it doesn't have, but what it does so poignantly exude, as a topography, in a truly haunted place on earth. I'm helplessly drawn to it as a poet, an artist, and in its bleakness, is a powerful enlightenment to be fulfilled, the questing heart.

One can look at the stark and prone figures of the fallen pines, their branches still reaching upward with regret, and rotting old birches, that cast thin shadows, and feel this is a desolate place. If on the other hand, as the artist, you found these same grotesque shapes, honest portrayals of our natural existence….., might you paint them onto the boards, that may one day hang as a reminder, when this place too, has been paved over and developed, to meet the urban standard. Pity, we don't find this a glorious place now, in its modesty, between autumn and winter.

TIME AND OCCASION FOR THE MIND TO WANDER

It is early November and all is well here at The Bog, my Muskoka "Walden Pond," where the voyeur is heartily entitled, ceaselessly encouraged, to watch the natural transition of the seasons…….and enjoy the peace of mind, abundantly nurtured and encouraged in such inspirational places as this. Gentle, soothing places, where country philosophers aren't scorned or judged, and the path from here to there isn't encumbered by precedent and pre-conceived anything. If I should walk down this short, winding trail, to The Bog this morning, there could be a length of tree, newly fallen, blocking my way. It would be my enterprise to work with the nature around me, and either move the obstacle or hop over it, and think more on the subject, of rolling it to the side. There are no bylaws that will stop this enterprise of nature evolving, or of us passersby, working in unison to free the path of blockages. I adore this pathway, and respectfully submit that nature is entitled to change what it pleases, and when in a mortal day, it decides change is imminent and necessary. We don't need consensus, just not a grand debate on how to regain order amidst chaos. This is one situation of chaos I am respectful of, and in fact, benefit from, as it is evolutionary and splendidly natural. I am always interested in nature's handiwork.

The bogland is heavy with white sparkling frost this morning, although it is going to be a bright and sunny hour to come, without even a whisp of cloud from one horizon to the other. It is late enough this morning that I can hear the pleasant sound of youngsters, running to catch their school bus, at the corner of our lane. It is a nostalgic mix, to hear their voices, and hardy laughter, as this place softens in the increasing light, and the lowland grasses spring back, upon the melting-away of frost from the ground up. The unison of squirrel chatter, the rustling of an old porcupine in the brush pile, and the chirping of birds in the overhead boughs, has a restorative affect on the watcher in the woods; and it is life truly, honestly, celebrated amidst pleasant encumbrance……this change of season…..this length of tree that forces me to adjust my footfall. A change of plan from the normal course. There is birth and then death and a strange dance of life and fate, from one transitory reality to another.

It has been a gentle transition, this fall season, into the more aggressive near-winter days, but after a bright and sunny Thanksgiving, where many people wandered through these same smoky woods, donned in summer attire, the continuing warmer climate, with so much full, invigorating sun, may well be a harbinger of a mild winter yet to come. Of course, the old-timers, judging the frantic collecting of the chipmunks and squirrels, believe this will be a difficult, bitterly cold winter; one for the record books they add!

It is easy to lull into complacency, standing here, overlooking the painted landscape in this bathing of strong morning sun. While I've watched this all before, the tranquil, warm solitude quickly overtaken by the mood swing of December, it is innocent folly, to believe the kind weather will persist; maybe even to Christmas, as it does once every twenty or so years. But I will be contented, regardless, by whatever prevailing climate exists, as it has proven a hundred times over, that inclement weather stirs the artist within. I have benefitted many times, sitting in my office, here at Birch Hollow, looking out on a typical winter-season stormscape, and writing with a boundless vigor; composing long, long into the night, being inspired by the howl of the wind, the rage of snow hitting against the pine forest, the leaning old birches, and this modest wreathed homestead above The Bog…..that has afforded, for all these years, sanctuary from the elements.

As I benefit from this life-full acreage, so close to the urban neighborhoods of our town, and celebrate the seasons of Muskoka, I will return to my abode, soon, and attempt, to the best of my capability, portray the experience of my contemplative sojourn, in the rejuvenating grasp of healing nature,….. and undoubtedly feel, in kindness, I owe this place my keenest attention. When, that is, I've found myself again, sitting at this keyboard, attempting the impossible. To express my most sincere gratitude, for the embrace of nature at Birch Hollow.