Slow walk, solitary splendour
- Details
- Published on Saturday, November 12, 2016
By Rita Friesen
Neepawa Banner
The dogs and I have found a new favourite path, the portion of the Trans Canada Trail south and east of the hospital. Down in the valley, out of the wind and surrounded by peace and beauty. Our walk this morning was leisurely, a drastic change from our usual gallop. The winding path has become dear to me, certain curves offering amazing vistas. This morning I could formulate thoughts, attempt to capture the essence of the trail. I have always loved oak trees. Stopping to pay homage, I noted again the twists and turns in the branches, strength garnered from adversity, torsion from the prevailing winds and slopping foundation working their magic. Maple trees and I have a different relationship.
This morning I saw the seed covered branches as a deep damask gown, the tree ready for the winter dance. The asparagus a deep golden frond against the drying grasses. And the river, always the river. Gargling, gurgling, foaming forward. Slight dams slow the flow, adding a new and sparkling dimension to the water’s journey. A new tone in the water, a deeper thrum. In one of the curves sits a blue plastic utilitarian chair. Weeks ago the seat of the chair was well above the water level. Then, as the rains filled the soil and overflowed, only the very top of the chair was visible, a dash of brilliant blue. Deer tracks, coyote droppings and mysterious trails through tall grasses and reeds. Though the trail is well maintained and obviously used, every walk has been in solitary splendour.
I appreciated the slower pace this morning. I appreciated the opportunity to breath deep and release my imagination. This is the week that we specifically honour our veterans. This is the week that we have services and ceremonies, reflecting on the loss of loved ones, the effects of these losses. Losses of yesterday and today. This freedom I have, to walk a river trail, to laugh and play, to be filled with pleasure, was hard won. I did nothing to deserve it or to earn it. My life backpack is filled with privilege: Caucasian, educated, woman in an era when women are slowly being accorded equal status, a traveller, a reader and a thinker, stable environment, own a home and am gainfully employed. What riches are mine!
Around us, among us, are ongoing struggles. This week, whether attending a memorial service, watching on TV, or quietly reflecting from the comfort of our home, remember to give thanks. Give thanks for those who served and serve, for those who lived and live, willing to die for their principles and our country. The ways of war have changed, the effects of war remain the same. Returning members of our military live with memories that can not be undone. Wear your poppy with pride, place it in memory, with thankfulness.
