Long time coming

Today is the first time we in Canada are observing National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. Many businesses are closed, though not all. As is so often the case with a newly introduced tradition, it takes some of us longer to learn than others. 

I was fortunate to be in Victoria, our provincial seat of government, earlier this week. It was good to see the steps of the Legislature Building filled with reminders of the 215 children whose graves were discovered earlier this year. 

Even wet with rain, the memorial to them evokes sadness -- and for some of us, difficult memories of our own, especially recollections of experience with actions taken in the name of religion. 

I was especially pleased when this morning's 'Poetry Pause' from the League of Canadian Poets arrived in my inbox, as it was "Angels: 215" a poem written by our current Parliamentary Poet Laureate, Louise Bernice Halfe / Sky Dancer. Not only is she our country's first Indigenous Poet Laureate, she knows all too well the experience of residential schools. And in case you'd like a poem emailed to you every day, here's a link to the form where you can sign up. 

The message, "Every Child Matters" is important and one we can only hope will soon become universally true, one that will remain true always.  

Aside from listening to different broadcasts today, this little post is about all I am able to do. That and wear my own orange shirt. I did at least do my best to buy a new shirt with a design that was created by an Indigenous artist. 

I felt fortunate to find one bearing the work of Art W. Charlie II, a man from near Tofino here in B.C. 

For the sake of a river

Yesterday was World Rivers Day, but it seemed -- at least around here -- pretty much nobody noticed. 

This seemed a bit odd, especially as Rivers Day apparently had its origins here in British Columbia and was founded by water protector and advocate Mark Angelo. \

I tried to find out about some way I could defend our local river, the Little Campbell, which is threatened by development that's bound to harm it and the salmon who remain there, but my efforts were futile; I was not able to connect with anyone who could help me figure out to show support for protecting it. 

The river in the photo above is the Similkameen, the one that runs behind our favourite campsite in Manning Park, the one we were lucky enough to stay in two weeks ago. 

Maybe I'll have to go back there to find a way to show my honour and respect for one of our rivers.  

C-change, I suspect

The more commonly used term is 'sea change' which means a big shift, and not one just pertaining to the ocean. 

The big shift I am anticipating (and somewhat bracing for) might in truth be more of a C-change, meaning a change in Canada as a result of today's election. 

Oddly, it happens that others refer to such thing as 'C-change' which turns out to be something called an eggcorn -- something that sounds like the word one actually means. 

At least I was able to prepare myself for whatever might be ahead by a week of being offline, camping in the comfort of our funny old RV at Manning Park. We weren't at the resort, but at the same site we'd stayed in last year on the bank of the Similkameen River, under the shade of a very tall cottonwood and a mix of conifers. 

So, I guess I have to say, whatever the votes might bring, bring it on. All we can do is look for brighter days ahead. 

Almost there...

Walking through a pile of crispy brown leaves mostly takes me back in time -- to days when my sister and I would build 'rockets' or 'cars' with piled up fallen leaves, always rounding out two 'cockpits' for each of us to sit in. But even riding around in our wildly imaginative vehicles, there's no way we could have envisioned the world of now. 

A global pandemic, showing not enough signs of being controlled. A society where it seems almost unimaginable to be able to buy a home. And, most threatening of all, a world in the midst of the climate emergency. 

I suppose, barely over a week from now, we'll have a new federal government. All I can do is brace for whatever that outcome might be. Yes, I will still vote, though we're one of those ridings where it's mostly pointless to cast a ballot, as a single party has held a tight grip (except for once) for more decades than I care to recall. I can't even vote by conscience this time, as we don't have a Green in the running here. 

But rather than thinking doom and gloom, I am reminding myself that we'll soon be rounding another seasonal corner, this time observing the autumn equinox a time when day and night are equal, a time of balance, at least of the light. That's also the first day we'll be under the sign of Libra, the ruler of balance. 

Looking forward to getting there. 

What happened??

I'm wondering what happened to kindness. 

Not so long ago, we were banging pots at 7 pm, whole neighbourhoods making noise on behalf of health care workers. We were participating in a small collective action to show our appreciation of nurses and doctors and emergency vehicle workers, whose job it is to keep the rest of us safe. 

Today, I had occasion to drive past our local hospital, only to spot protesters lining the sidewalk, waving signs -- a continuation of the anti-vax contingency's insistence on fighting against protective measures that have been enacted. I wonder how many of them will think it's all a hoax, and a conspiracy against their rights if they get sick. 

It has to be discouraging for health care workers to be faced with dissenters who claim they know better than scientists, though what they are basing their 'facts' on is anybody's guess. Worst story to come out of recent protests in Vancouver was this, about an ambulance worker fearing that her patient would die while the rabble impeded the emergency vehicle's progress as they banged their sticks against it. 

What the heck is wrong with people, anyway.