Our True North Strong and Free

We Canadians would rather flag a taxi than fly a flag.

We'll happily put little paper flags in planters and tree stumps on July 1st, but we will rarely be caught hanging a big, real one from the front porch. And for the entire summer?? Unh unh, not gonna happen.
Somewhere in between the War of the Roses and the War of 1812, it got sorted out that those, those.. people...who didn't end up on God's fair isle were fated to go to that vast empty Hinterland  beyond the realm and across the pond  to preserve  His (or Her) Royal Majesty's majesty. And they gave their word to do so  with appropriate decorum and dignified deportment.

It was further decreed that the Masses of the Hinterland  (MoH's) would not bump into people, pets or inanimate objects. And if they did so, they would say, " I'm sorry." And, if the people, pets, or inanimate objects bumped into them, then the MoH's would say, "OH! I'm sorry!"

In the event of  a disagreement with anyone about anything, then the MoH must quickly defer, and say, "Oh.Well then. Of course, you must be right." And if, in the rare circumstance, that it was absolutely certain that the MoH was indeed, right, then the MoH must say, "Oh dear. Well, I am sorry. But, uh, I am right. Sorry!"

We're such a sorry lot. Why people from away even make fun of us for saying sorry so much, for being so friendly,  so polite, so forgiving. Not for us the dropping of a ball at midnight, nor the thunderous ride through tiny towns with a lantern. Nope..too attention-getting. Too dramatic. Too much like  a TV mini-series.

No, we didn't run with bulls anywhere, either. (Rode them, yes, but only when at the Calgary Stampede.)  But we did  name a chocolate shop after a woman who did try to warn HRM's troops about a possible invasion from below the 49th parallel. Laura Secord is sweetly remembered every Easter and Mother's Day in The Hinterland.

And when Nature is your daily guide, over time you learn to take note and you start to see things  a bit differently.

No. We don't do self aggrandisement well.  We may brag from time to time, but it's usually not about the nation as a whole, it's about individual accomplishments..like Terry Fox, Wayne Gretzky, Shania Twain, Guy Lombardo (yes, sorry, he's Canadian), Alexander Graham Bell (ring a ding ding), Dr Banting  (insulin treat for your diabetes), Thomas Edison (light's on), John Hopps (please tell airport security if you have a pacemaker), Peter Robertson (screw this in tight), Gideon Sundbeck (here, zip me up please)..and of course, things like Canada Dry, Canadian Club, Poutine and Beavertails (yum to the last four). And Blackberry (not the one you eat, though, there's a thought)
No, we don't like to show our official colours (red and white) because we are so much more than that.

In 1967 a book was published entitled Call Them Canadians. A table top anthology of poems, prose and pictures that attempted to define a Canadian.

One short poem has always stuck in  my mind by poet Miriam Waddington:

We are not one but two,

We are not two but four.

We are not four but many.

And sometimes,

We are not any.

It's the song my paddle sings, it's my canoe, it's my kayak. And while I ply the waters of this land, it's the songs I hear of the lonesome Loon, the Whip-poor-will,  the howling wolf, and the little Song Sparrow.

This is a land and a place that people have been trying to define and then subjugate for 600 years, but they still haven't quite  managed to..yet. And it's because of the weather.

It's , "It's 40 below, got a heater in my truck, and I don't give a F#*k, and I'm off to the Rodeo!" Who would write a song like that?? unless they've been to Canada in January.

We got used to the Hinterland. Embraced it. Made "Canada's Hinterland Who's Who" a Monday night favourite on TV. It's still running, http://www.hww.ca/index_e.asp and celebrating Canada's  incredible nature. But that 's not all that's uniquely quirky about us...there's also Bob McDonald's Quirks and Quarks..a radio show about science --that people tune in to CBC Radio to listen to! And speaking of CBC...no matter where you are in Canada, you can get CBC. Everyday. Same friendly voices, same earnest commentary, same silly jokes, same breaking world news. Essential in a country that has five time zones and half an hour later in Newfoundland.

                                                     What a place!

                                                       I'm sorry.

I can't define it.

But it is me.

A Place within me.

Shaping how I see the world around me,

and how I wish the world to see me.

This weary old world could use a little more Canada.

Happy Birthday!

The Zen of Birds for Politicians and other Arrogant Worms.

A walk in the woods, a trek through the trees, bits from the branches, you name it, everywhere you turn, there are lessons asking to be learned.

Mother Nature has  written her wise old ways all around you,

if you but care to stop, look, and listen.

And learn.

The beautiful back lit palm, etched by the sun is a lesson in geometry,

hidden treasure, bas relief, photosynthesis, shadows and

the "incredible lightness of being".

Nothing is one dimensional, uni-purposed, or too banal for your attention.

Lesson #1: So pay attention to the little things around you.

For amidst the branches, and behind the palm, a furtive watcher waits

for a little lizard to make its way onto the palm branch. While happily sucking up  tiny red ants, the lizard  is also being hunted, unaware of the danger

lurking above and behind, just over his shoulder.

He sits quietly, waiting for the moment when the lizard is so caught up in his own game, that he forgets to look over his shoulder.

"Good bye lunch."

" Hello dinner."

Lesson # 2: Check the rear view mirror once in awhile.

You never know who's got you in their sights.

And that leads us to the next lesson. What not to wear on the campaign trail?

Bright colours on top is a bad idea, especially if you're a perky little thing that likes to flitter among the crowds, quick in, quick out.

Keep it cheap and cheerful. But not too cheap or too cheerful..after all, this is an election and serious business.

Lesson # 3. This is not a fashion show.

Stick to the tried and true timeless colour basics. Black, blue, white in summer. Small little dabs of jewellery...don't stand out when you're trying to fit in.

Don't let them think you make a lot of money.

Being a buffoon is bad for business when you're trying to win the hearts and minds of the people.

Just ask this guy. Stood out so much from the crowd as he scooped up tiny fishes, that he drew far too much attention to himself, and is now endangered in some regions.  The Eugene Whelan of the pelican species.

Funny. Bigger than life. Gone.

Lesson # 4: Don't be a flying dinosaur.

Politicians are meant to demonstrate wisdom. They should show us the way to harmony and bliss. They are supposed to be leaders, and the most respected generally are. But  over the past few decades, elections have become much less about visions for a nation, and much more about tapping into the motherlode. Finding the  niche demographic that will bring home the win.

It's Politics with a capital P now, where winning is everything.

 And we the people are simply pawns on a giant chess board.

Until of course the election is over, and someone wins.

Then we're forgotten. 

Lesson # 5: The sweetness of the sap will linger, long after the wood

has been tapped.

This may sound like a good thing. But bear in mind that "power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely".  Have you ever noticed how quickly

young and perky politicians turn gray and wrinkly?

They find a comfy cushion on the back bench,

and that's the last we ever hear of them!

Sad. But true.

Don't let this happen to you!

No, you must maintain your flight feathers, and be ready to launch into action at

a second's notice. Seize the light the minute fortune shines on you,

and be ready to fly. Go the distance. Do the right thing.

Lesson # 6. Do sweat the small stuff.

It's the little gestures, the honesty effort, the commitment, and the confidence to fly against the wind that will cast the longest shadow, and cause people to remember your name long after you've left the jungle.

Oh baby, it's a wild world. Hard to get by just upon a smile.

Cold Comfort

As a snowy white blizzard  blasts into my world, it changes. Colours, shapes, textures, temperatures, even smells.

There is more, and there is less. More intensity, less lingering.

More softness . Less definition

More shades of gray. Less of every other colour.

This wintery white world envelopes us, and dictates changes

that we must make to survive it.

It slows us down. Insulates. Isolates.

Makes us late.

Until we learn to leave earlier.

Which we do. We slowly adjust.

The first day is always the worst. The topic on everyone's tongue.

Why does - 5C feel  frigid in December,  and downright balmy in March?

Imagine getting used to that!

But we do.

We  are proud to be part of this northern land.

And it gives us cold comfort in return.

Degrees of Separation

Canada to Cuba - a five hour flight

separated by 50 degrees...

and several layers of clothing.

Visit http://skyley.blogspot.com/ for more Skywatch photos.