My poetry volume will be out soon. It contains six distinct moods. I give a description of Part Two, which also provides the title of the book. One poem follows the intro……..
PART TWO: PAINTING WITH WORDS
I remember as a child how I blithely assumed that nature walked me when I cut school to roam the forest and rivers near my home. It brings back memories of stretching time as I explored nature’s domain. I still retain that childhood naivety about the web of life. I have always talked to birds, animals, trees, rocks and the planet. My speaking to nature provided me with an awesome, humbling sense of interconnectedness.
I have been an environmentalist all my life, long before I knew what the word meant. It emerged from an intrinsic love of nature and rapport with animals. I was often late for school, as the flowers and songbirds in the hedgerows captivated my attention, particularly in springtime, when creativity and new life exploded into being. I once attempted to explain my lateness in these terms to my schoolteacher. I was kept in at recess for my seemingly troublesome nature and made to write out 100 lines of “I will not be late for school.” I adorned my punishment schedule with drawings of birds and spring buds, and was then made to repeat the punishment. I did not understand this adult world, nor did I like it. Something in me persisted. I redid my lines, once again drawing birds on branches opening their beaks to sing joyously. I was kept in at recess for an entire week for my stubbornness, yet refused to let go of my feelings for nature. Eventually the teacher gave up on punishing me for my drawings. I was eight years old, and that is when I learned to mistrust authority figures solely concerned with control and power.
As a child I had special relationships with wild animals, in particular with one otter and a family of hedgehogs that I kept under my bed. My parents were long suffering over the stray animals I brought home, but their patience was severely stretched over the hedgehogs. The hedgehogs had to be returned to the hedgerow when I became infested with their fleas, which I passed on to my immediate family, classmates, and also to a particular schoolteacher that I was delighted to so infest!
My passion for nature was solitary; it had no encouragement from any quarter because it needed none. I have subsequently made studies of wolf and dolphin behavior, and was “adopted” by a wolf. When I first met him he was running free in the coastal mountains of British Columbia. He immediately claimed ownership — I was his! After showing me his mountain habitat and uncannily appearing every time I visited the Mt. Currie area, he chose to live with me in my hermitage in Gatineau Park forest in Quebec. It had become clear that he was a lone wolf and not part of a pack. It was in his mind to live with me in my forest home in Eastern Canada. How did he know I lived in Gatineau Park Forest in Quebec? I gave him the highly original name of “Wolfie”!
The fascination with dolphins led to many adventures, studying and swimming with them in their oceanic habitat, ranging from the Outer Hebrides in the North Atlantic, to the Java Sea north of Bali, and in the Pacific Ocean off Maui and Vancouver Island. I was always exhilarated and totally humbled by their magnificent presence. For me nature was never to be conquered and mastered, it was simply to see my place in a vast, interconnected, and changing web of life.
Stretching fingers to the sky in pain.
Waiting for the return,
that time of warmth and renewal long forgotten,
as Fall merges with Winter’s severity.
The waning sky casts hues and movement to
the stillness in the lake.
Promise of a more gentle time, where winter’s cruelty
is cast aside by buds of flowers,
that insist on their dominion.
The evening moon,
a delicate mistress, sees it all.
The clear diamond light of spring
anticipating the aging leaves left
behind by Autumn,
shared with Summer’s bounty.
All waiting for the icy hand of Winter
to banish Autumn from the land.
Gatineau Forest, Quebec, 1978