It is Canadian Thanksgiving this coming Monday, and we’ve plenty, personally, to be thankful for. Oh, Canada! Far from perfect, a work in progress, and thank goodness we are trying. Having said that, recent events in the news leave one feeling a touch guilty about feeling thankful. Honestly, you don’t have to look too hard for evidence to encourage the belief that the world is on a slippery slope right now.
Do you find yourself mentally exhausted each time you read about the latest crisis? The events themselves are terrible, and awful for the innocent people caught up in them. I know I lead a privileged and comfortable existence compared with many, so my complaining here is trivial. Here I go anyway. I’m dejected and appalled by the other noise that follows, or masquerades as, the news.
The disillusion and despair is felt most particularly when “leadership” responses appear to be all about changing (ignoring) the facts or focus of discussion. To be this disingenuous about serving in government is a disgrace. When they did this, it really means that! I’m right, and don’t anybody ask what this is actually about! You must agree with me. If you dare to express otherwise, then it proves you are that!
There are statements (speeches, or rather, rants, and tweets – tweets?! – how is that “statesmanlike” or seemly?!) appealing to base notions, or simplifying complicated issues so that pointing fingers and assigning blame overshadows the issue instead of finding solutions. Let’s just control or falsify the narrative to ensure we look good. Any humility? An admission mistakes can be/have been made? Can we allow for another point of view? Nope! Noise, shouting, more noise, and more shouting. I’m in charge and I know best. Oh dear. Common decency and common sense appear to be more and more uncommon these days. Calm things down? No, that won’t make me look strong! Let me threaten instead! It’s so much easier to spread fear and blame than it is to provide hope and help, especially if the needy aren’t your narrow-minded supporters…
I’d better stop writing this. I’m not going to stop reading the news, or cease having an opinion – if we all did, no doubt that would make certain parties only too happy. I will aim for being positive, and that personal positivity will be found most readily in natural settings. I do understand that nature, or the environment, is social/economic/political, but when you’re on the trail, or under canvas, or splashing about in the water, the immediacy of what you’re doing takes over, energizes you, and some of the other concerns fall away, if only for a while.
Well, we might be at the bottom of the barrel – it can’t get any worse, can it? – but you’ve got to try and be glass half full. I’ve a feeling we’re all going to need as much energy as possible as we attempt to look forward. Has it really been less than a year? Aiming for the positive, I’m thankful for all the voices that acknowledge and value our wonderful diversity and common humanity. I’m thankful for all the beautiful places still left on our amazing planet. I’m thankful it’s still possible to agree to disagree and not raise fists.
Hmm. Struggling for coherence here. I think I’ve vented enough – thanks for your patience, and maybe your understanding – and have a wonderful weekend!
The photographs were taken late September at Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park, AB
I’ve never really had the time before to wander around Sunnyside during the week, when most are at work or school. It feels slightly illicit. I strolled around the neighbourhood the other day on a beautiful autumnal morning. Ah, what an excellent day it was for displacement activity! I like to have a short list of tasks to do each day, so that at the end of the day I can beat myself up about not achieving them. (I don’t actually feel bad about it – I use unfinished or untackled tasks to make the list for the next day – now isn’t that productive?)
Fall has arrived, and in the foothills and the city, temperatures have been anywhere between early summer and early winter. As I sit and write this, (ooh, check that off the list for today) cold rain is falling and we’ll be in single digits with a slight chance of snow the next couple of days. Then warm sunshine once more. I love weather forecasts and the fall seesaw.
I was breaking in a new pair of boots (check), readying them for a hike we’ve got planned for the coming weekend. The new boots were long overdue. It is time for new ones when the old ones are held together with mud, and they walk by themselves to the nearest garbage can, begging to be put out of their misery. The aroma was distinct, but surely not unpleasant? I thought they had a few more miles left in them, but the refusal of friends and family to walk with me said otherwise.
Sunnyside and the Bow river looked splendid in the bright sunshine. Determined joggers, vigorous dog walkers, wagging dogs, slightly frazzled parents with babies and toddlers, speedy cyclists, and a late middle-aged time-waster were using the pathways along the river, enjoying themselves and the day.
Autumn is one time of year when I think about our old life back in Europe. I think it is the colours and the smells of fallen leaves, the faint scent of decay. It seems to prompt nostalgia and reflection. Calgary is a lively and well-resourced city if you need to be in an urban area, lacking little, but it doesn’t have a wide variety of deciduous trees providing fall colour. I think of the London oaks, planes and chestnuts, and the sweet chestnuts, walnuts, and alders of Bordeaux and Perigueux. We lived near the Foret de la Double, and it was a fine place to wander in the fall. But that was back then, and in the here and now we can enjoy the green and gold.
Walt, over at Rivertop Rambles (
Sometimes the best way to tackle report cards is to leave them at home and go take a nap. Rest your eyes, stare off into the distance, empty your head, or fill it with something else. Be lulled by the river song, rest and recharge, and then head back for an early evening beer. A beer? But what about those – never mind. I can’t write under the influence. Have to finish them another day.
We went looking for winter last weekend, out on the banks of the Bow. We found a chill wind blowing. Deep snow, and no sign of any fellow humans out and about. Previously made snowshoe tracks were well buried under a fresh blanket of snow. To be fair, there were fresh snowshoe tracks – those of a snowshoe hare. A deer or two had evidently passed through shortly before we did, so we weren’t entirely alone.
Winter had a pretty good grip on the landscape. Thin patches of filmy ice drifted down river. We stood still and silent, hoping to catch sight of the little dipper we often encounter along this particular stretch. A sudden splash alerted us to the presence of something larger, and a minute later we spotted a beaver swimming in front of the far bank.
Two Steller’s jays appeared, emerging from a heavily branched pine, chattering and scolding us as we passed by. Our winged escort for quite a way, flitting from tree to tree, and branch to branch, they were sometimes hard to spot, but little puffs of snow and a flash of blue revealed them each time they took off. Eventually we left their territory, but they were a welcome sight for a while.
Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!
We were on the Saddleback trail a little while ago, and it is a fine place to be. Searching for some outdoor peace on a crowded January weekend near Lake Louise, we watched where most folks were heading from the parking lot, and then went in the opposite direction. We are wily PlaidCampers…
With the narrow track winding through tall trees, there was an almost tunnel like effect at times, with branches overhanging the trail and dumping clumps of heavy snow if we disturbed the dangling limbs. Dump clump? Well, alright! Ahem. The heavy blanket muffled most noise, so there was a real stillness and quiet to the forest.
Plodding along and enjoying the walk, I got to thinking about taking a trail ride in the summer. Would I enjoy it? The few horses I’ve ever ridden always appear to have a tremendous time. They’ll take a route under the lowest boughs, and close to rough trunks simply to see if I can hang on. I can. Last time out, I slipped just a little in the saddle. Or from the saddle. My butt was lower than my knees but I think that’s a riding style. A slight twist on side saddle? Definitely didn’t fall off. It’s not falling off if you don’t touch the ground.
Maybe I’ll stick to hiking. Supposing I’m out riding on a narrow mountain path and we meet a bear? The horse would rear up, I’d fall off – the last couple of feet or so, being close to the ground already – and then there’d be headlines. Nope, sticking to hiking. I’m a wily (and news shy) old PlaidCamper.
We enjoyed the Saddleback, and would take it again. It’s a quiet spot in a sometimes crowded part of Banff National Park. Recommended, certainly in winter, and if you’re a brave soul, perhaps you’d enjoy it on a horse in the summer?