RED SALAMANDERS AND SNAPPING TURTLES

 

                              RED SALAMANDERS AND SNAPPING TURTLES

The children had the wildest, most beautiful and educational playground in the world.  As a family, we explored its beauty often.  We went to the Cape Croker Park which was a money-making campground.  We enjoyed the swings, then walked or drove among the lovely, mature blossoming trees and the dense birch section which we dubbed the  ”birch ballet”.  In the woods near our home, we picked up pretty brown and white snail shells and watched for the small, red salamanders which I have never seen anywhere else in Canada.  We walked and waded along the beaches, collecting “fossils”.  Once, on the shale rock in the shallow water behind our house, we actually watched fish hatching.

On Sunday afternoons, we usually went for a hike along the bluffs.  We parked our car near the Akiwenzies’ house, which backed onto the bluffs, telling them where we were going, and about when to expect us back.  This was because the bluffs, full of exotic beauty, were dangerous.  There were crevasses, often covered by fall leaves, into which you might fall and break a leg if not careful.  You might fall off the bluffs themselves, as there were no guardrails.  I think the untamed beauty was part of their fascination. We came to know our trails quite well.  Imprinted on my soul forever is the image of the huge, chalk-white bluffs covered with orange maple leaves, against the deep blue water below.  Small wonder our children grew up loving nature and hating cramped offices.          

            The children, whether with one or two friends or a whole group, played for hours in the woods.  They had their own special ‘monkey tree’, Tarzan tree’ and laboriously-constructed forts.  I can still hear the plaintive cry of Grace, two years younger:

 “Stephen!  Wait for me!”

 and the fear-inducing instructions from Stephen, in front,

“Watch out for the snapping turtles!”

In the winter, we skated along the wild and windy north shore of the Cape on ice ranging from bumpy to so clear we could make out rocks on the bottom, but watch out -there was open water nearby!  Skating at our favourite place on the north shore during the bleak February days, and seeing a summer toy frozen beneath the ice, inspired me to write the following poem:

                        Unreachable

Icy branches rattle their marimbas,

Snow-pyramids wink and sparkle in the distance.

I stand on the thick, bumpy ice.

Peering through frozen gingerale-green bubbles

I see a child’s blue plastic boat from summer –

A glimpse of yesterday,

Unreachable.

 

We have loved ones who have passed on.

Like the boat, they seem unreachable –

Caught in another dimension.

 

Isn’t it wonderful to know that

When the hard, frozen time of winter

Is overcome by soft spring rains

We will find them again?

                                        F.V.M.

…Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty,

the whole earth is full of his glory. (Isaiah 6:3NIV)                                                                                                                                                                          

 

 

 

  

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