– the English Channel lapping at the shoreline – waves cresting and breaking while on the horizon the sails of little ships hint at what once was here. One can only imagine in this place.
Category: Notes from the Field
I Walk In Their Path
In anticipation of this Remembrance day, I prepare to find my place and take witness of today’s gathering. Those here are younger ones now and those I once knew have found shelters away from this earthly domain.
Steel Rule Over the Falls
Heron Spreads its Wings In my presence the steel rule plummets to the tiled floor of criss-crossed ceramic and grout – the rule’s edges crashing upon the two colour pattern conjures a zenith of endless Zildjian cymbals rising in multiple shimmers all caught within an empty room of echo. My tranquil domain shattered – the […]
Generations of High Water
People helping people, filling sandbags, finding comforts, waiting, hope, worry, searching amidst the loss, new friends, the military is here (or has returned). Stop the water…move the people…save the livestock….save the sturgeon, evacuate, evacuate…find higher ground as sirens wail their haunting scream. In the worst of times the best of us found.
Across the Sky with Chariot
A propensity for continual searching, track and wordsmiths, to speak to this day and the one before…when a journey made to little mountains brings me again to elder acquaintances who have heard my footsteps before. Between the stone evidence of earthbound memories the ever holding grasses screech for dancing delicacy….regn.
While Sparrows Bounce
My ears, unable to distinguish the poet’s voice from the murmurings of mechanical and inflectional clamourings, requires technology to capture the refrain, while sparrows bounce between crumbles. I walk towards the jukebox as verse and chorus rise to my recognitio…
Rabbits and Horses
On all of our many roads we pass by – that which once was known and – that which all purpose is known. A bit of time perhaps…to walk our trails with shorter footsteps…to develop an acute sense of place…
In Love and Light
Dearest Mother Peace…I passed your way this morning to climb an old friend…Mt. Tolmie…to see this city…
Kin and Kindling
I remind myself that my visits to this peace were once the chaos of another’s every day. I walk alongside the landscapes once familiar to ancestors. They are gone now…the soldiers – their mothers, their fathers, from either side of many languages.
Mrs. Kate Palmer’s Walk
Thread Seven: 1922 – Kate Palmer of Victoria, B.C. journeyed to Belgium to visit her son’s grave at Woods Military Cemetery, south of Ypres.