Happy 150th Canada

July 1, 2017 at 6:15 am (Life, Memoir) (, , , , , , , , , , )

I first realized that Canada was a country and that I was Canadian when I was seven years old.

That was in 1967. Canada was turning 100. I was seven and in First Grade and my older sister, who was eleven, really wanted to go to Expo ’67 in Montreal. She was threatening to hitch-hike. (Spoiler Alert) – She didn’t get to go – She was, after all, only eleven and we were very poor!

Country was a new interesting concept. I knew where I lived. A certain small town in Saskatchewan. I vaguely knew where my province was though I did not yet remember being outside of it. And, of course, we sang O Canada in school and I knew that the song referred to something bigger than my province.

But 1967 was the year I figured out Canada belonged to me. The abundance of celebrations, both inside and outside of school, said come, enjoy, you belong here! Canada was mine!

The next time I felt that Canada was explicitly mine was when I was first old enough to vote. Pierre Elliot Trudeau was running for Prime Minister and I was graduating from high school and becoming a full fledged adult. I had a responsibility, as a Canadian adult, to cast my vote in this very sexy and exciting election.

Is there not an iconic photo of PET in a canoe? You see, canoeing is also very Canadian.

Canada.

Her wide prairies.

The joy of swimming in her lakes.

Our numerous national parks, FREE this year. Go and see how many you can see. I would love to do a coast to coast to coast tour of them all!

Canada.

My Country.

Quiet and soft and safe.

 

 

Permalink Leave a Comment

Photo Challenge: Frame

August 28, 2016 at 10:09 am (Meme) (, , , , , , , , , , )

image

I went back home recently; my second home, my other home – the place where my dad and his second family lived. I don’t have the words to describe accurately what this place means to me. It’s not second, it’s not other, but it’s not quite my only home either. Can we have more than one home?

One of the places that speaks to me spiritually is the Bow River Falls and it’s been too long since I was able to sit on those shores. I miss the sight of them, the sound of them, the smell of them. Not knowing when I would return, I wanted to bring them back with me. So I recorded the sound of them and paced the parking lot looking for perfect angles (sans tourists) to capture the look and feel of them.

It took a while!

I liked the way the top two trees were growing and could see how they framed the Falls perfectly. I had to wait and wait for other photographers and tourists to get out of the frame. It took forever but I had the perfect angle from where I sat on the stone border wall. So I waited and snapped other photos.

Finally I got my shot!

It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed that the trees almost form a perfect heart.

I think I’ll print out this one and frame it. I’ll think of home every time I look at it.

Other Frame Photo Challenges here.

Plus, go here for 8 tips on enjoying your national parks.

 

Permalink 4 Comments