Elizabeth's Walk

For the past dozen or more years Elizabeth Penashue has set out on a spring walk. She goes on her snowshoes and sleeps in a Labrador canvas tent on spruce boughs. She travels with friends and many of her forty grandchildren. She knows that this journey is a way for her to show her grandchildren the sanity of being on the land. She set off yesterday for three weeks on what will be her last walk. Here are some photos I took of them setting out.

Finding Joy

Yesterday the fella and I went with Julia and Mike dog-sledding. It was the most transcendent experience - absolutely joyful in every way, on every level. Here are some photos that I hope will give a glimmer of that.

This morning and yesterday

I'm really trying to buckle down and finish a revision on Bright Angel. Well, I finished one revision - where I put it all from 1st person into 3rd and now I'm doing what I sincerely hope is the last revision - fine polishing - detail stuff. So, dear people, I will not be reporting in here much except perhaps with photos. And fb - after tomorrow I'm having a social network holiday until I'm happy with the book.

Here's some photos to tide you over! I know that lots of you can't comment for some reason - think they want you to have a blog to comment on one but not sure. I'd let you comment anonymously but it gets too irritating with people (companies?) posting drivel.

So...I know you're there. Enjoy!

another walk to the tent

Today - a photo essay of the walk Gwen and I just took - heavenly.

Move to the front of the line

We are all approaching the edge of the Grand Canyon - just imagine it if you will. You know - the lovely edge that you look down into and see the crazy colours of the rocks all dripping with pastel frosting - a deranged inside out layer cake of a place. In the front row are the oldest generation - the grandfathers, grandmothers, great-aunts and uncles and so on. Each row that comes behind is a slightly younger generation? Where do you think you are? Really! Think about it.

Last night we had a gathering for the relatives of Ron's Uncle Dick - he had died on Wednesday and there isn't to be a service until summer when all can get here. We had chowder and home-made buns and squares and sat around talking and drinking wine or Scotch or beer. It was truly lovely. The weird thing was, all day I had been imagining that there would be old people there. You know - the elders.

Guess what? That would've been us. We were the elders. I mean sure, there are some older people in both our families but there weren't any at this gathering and I actually knew there wouldn't be. There is only one sibling alive from Uncle Dick's family and he lives in Halifax. Uncle Dick's wife and Ron's mother are in the home and neither can really hold it in their minds that he has died. There is one other sister-in-law in town but again - not physically able to manage snowy walkways and steps. We were it.

At the front of the line - in front of us - the deep dark abyss - or the new adventure or however you might think of it. I like how tricksy my brain is, don't you?

Today we're walking up to Uncle Dick's in a snow storm to see his daughter before she heads home.