...on eyes filled with beauty, heart filled with wonder

As I write this, I am on a train. In coach. Somewhere out of Churchill, Manitoba. We are on the homeward leg of a most wonderful adventure. As musicians on Via Rail, we've been given passage considerations in return for entertainment, and for us, it has been a wonderful arrangement. 

Train travel is my favourite way to go, and this has not been a disappointment. A community of travelers takes shape within the first hour, and  we enjoy many stories from far-flung places...Dotty from New Jersey, four foot-eight, with a giant sense of humor.  Roger, her new buddy, six foot-eight, from California, with a marvelous singing voice and sad eyes. Denise and her sister, also from California, who remember everyone's names, come to all of our shows and really grab life with both hands.  The couple from Scotland, who don't believe that the Finn Polka is a Scottish tune. The mother/daughter duo from France, who looked more like twins.  The francophone couple from Winnipeg, with my ideal of the perfect French Canadian accent. And Joel, from New Mexico, whose knowledge of trains is exceeded only by his love of them, and who came to see us off at the station, even though he was staying in Churchill for another two days. 

There is another community on the train, as well.  For the local people, this is their primary link between their communities and with the rest of the world. On the way up, we were joined by several men who told us about the Manitoba Hydro projects and how those dams displaced their people, and how there is now work for some of them with the corporation. They enjoyed a beer, a chance to connect with each other, a game of cards, and seemed to appreciate the music we were making. 

This morning, across the aisle from me, three little girls, part of a family travelling from their reserve, Pikwitonei, to Thompson were doing what most little girls do as they travel nowadays...using their electronic games with great glee. 

Outside the window, the trees are getting bigger again. Such a variety of terrain!  For hours out of Winnipeg it is flat.  Flat, redefined. Then, slowly, we made our way into poplars. Further, spruce.  Even further, muskeg country with black spruce and tamarack. Churchill is on the edge of the tree line, with small, tortured trees, all with their backs to the winds that blow in from the Bay. 

The beauty of Churchill is not the trees, but the rocks!  Worn smooth by the glaciers and buffed by the wind, they are simply heart wrenchingly lovely to look at, but not so walker-friendly. The moisture in the air combines with the lichens to make a treacherous and slippery surface.  

It was a difficult place to leave.  People are good to each other there, and so good to those of us from "up south" who have come to see their fall tourist attraction -- the polar bears, as they begin to move toward the Bay in anticipation of the winter ice. 

Our hosts at the Seaport Inn graciously gave us the use of their pickup truck to go on our quest for the great white bear, and we were not disappointed. Down near the bay we met a huge older male, dozing on the rocks. For awhile we thought he was just another rock, as some rocks can be white. But much to our excitement, this rock lifted his head to sniff the air, and then got up and came a little closer to check out the new odor.  He was beautiful. We sat and shared the area with him for almost an hour until he eventually decided we weren't terribly interesting, and laid back down to nap.  Thrill, redefined. 

After our stop in Thompson, it was quite a different group of passengers...voices louder, children more animated.  This may not have been a boon to nappers, but for the musicians in the dining car, it was sheer joy!  We had small children playing the rhythm instruments with vigor, if not with a down beat, many requests for jigs and reels, and a  fellow up dancing a jig, (who we learned had lost his leg in a hunting accident as a child.)  Just before Thicket Portage, the calls were for the train to slow down, maybe even stop so we could play a little longer.  Or could we possibly get off and come home with them?  And of all the surprises on this surprising adventure, they wanted to take up a small collection among themselves to give us! A gift for a gift. Class in every colour. 

On the train there is the gift of closeness to nature, and the gift of leg room.  There is the gift of new acquaintances. The adventure begins at "all aboard."

...on beef, barley and bellyaches

The recent cases of E. coli-related illness in our province and subsequent shut-down of XL Foods processing plant in Brooks, Alberta clearly show the need in Alberta to address the issue of food safety seriously and with integrity and vigor.

 I have been a proud and contributing member of the Alberta Party for four years, and I am excited about the direction this party is taking regarding governance in this province.  In ongoing Alberta Party conversations with Albertans, through our Big Listen "kitchen table" conversations over the past three years, I have heard Albertans  consistently share concerns regarding food safety.

 How will the Alberta Party address this issue?  Based on these same conversations, I think it is safe to say that we recognize the importance of supporting our agriculture community and the consumer-public by rebuilding and supporting local food production and processing. We recognize the critical need for safety guidelines and inspections, particularly in a society in which a factory meat processing system is a way of Canadian life.

Our country has, over time, created a food system which is built on global supply chains. A food system where eaters are no longer connected with farmers and the processing chain is impersonal. The focus is on profit along the chain rather than relationships and health.

I appreciate that the Alberta Party stands for a food system that rebuilds those connections and concentrates on social, human and animal health. According to directions accepted a year ago at the party AGM, we support local growers and local processing. We believe local processors, selling food to local consumers, will be more concerned with health and food security. Local processors will make food traceability easier and clearer.  This is not to imply that we would turn back the clock on large beef processing plants, but neither would it be in our Modus Operandus to allow for lapses in safety inspection in our production of food.

Agriculture production and processing remains a very important part of our province's culture and economics.  What has happened at XL Foods will damage the livelihoods of growers and the employees at the plant, and cast doubts on the worldwide reputation of Alberta beef.  This is unacceptable.

We support local economies and we support rural industry. We agree with Albertans that changes are necessary. So again I pose the question, how will The Alberta Party address this issue?  We will remain true to our stated principles, we will continue to consult with Albertans and experts in the field, and we will prepare a carefully considered, workable policy that will be in the bests interests of Albertans.  Just as the preparation of excellent food takes time, so does  the preparation of excellent policy.

Stay tuned.

...on eyelashes, energy and value

This morning I am headed for an ever-increasingly tiresome medical appointment. No, I'm not complaining, not really. Each medical procedure reminds me of my good fortune to be so well-cared for on my life journey. More than medicine, I am talking about a lifestyle. Without giving it much thought (because I think as little about finance as possible) I can climb into a reasonably decent vehicle, ride for 90 minutes on a reasonably decent paved road, and enjoy the pleasant company of a wonderful partner.  I can switch on my ever-trusty iPad and learn, read or listen to pretty much whatever I want to.  I can worry about little else than where we will go for lunch later.  Well, worry about that and ponder the state of humanity and the world this morning. 

My iPad is an eye pad, giving me a tiny window on the entire world from my little corner of it in rural west central Alberta: today the Queen's jubilee celebration is shared by millions as we eagerly await the big concert, featuring some of Great Britain's musical royalty. I glance out the window and note that cattle are out on the grass now...typical June.   I think about wealth and privilege, and note that I have never wanted for a good meal, or good entertainment.  I take much for granted.

Today a Facebook share presents a poster regarding the more disturbing aspects of the development of the bitumen in our north country. Cancers, degradation of water supply, deformities in animal life, loss of a people's traditional way of life, and I note another share, a cartoon, the caption of which reads, "What you environmentalists have got to understand is the destruction of the planet may be the price we have to pay for a healthy economy."

Further down the road, I glance out the window at the beautiful little Blindman River, where I have lived most of my life, and I note the gas and oil installations that have been part of that fabric since I was a tadpole. I ponder a winding history of cancer patients in this little corridor: Bob, Waldy, Ron, Barry, Elaine, Sandy, Lena, me, and too many more. 

Today an email offers a Groupon deal for Siberian mink eyelash extensions for (gasp) only $89.00. I know.  I could hardly believe it myself...regularly valued at $236.85. Valued!

I glance out the window at fields turning green with the promise of an abundant harvest. An oil industry convoy is meeting us on the highway, a farmer is pulling his seeder out of one more finished field. 

Somewhere, right now someone is making a billion dollar deal to harvest bitumen, someone else is begging for a scrap of bread, someone else is getting into position to watch Sir Paul McCartney, live.  Someone else is embarking on a treatment regime for a newly-discovered cancer, and someone, heaven help us, is pouncing on the incredible opportunity to own Siberian mink eyelash extensions.  Valuable ones.

On inspiration...

From my second floor bedroom windows, I see walls of spruce trees, both to the south and east. I love to sip a leisurely coffee in the morning and watch the light playing through the branches, the comings and goings of occasional deer, and the squirrel neighbors, often chased by my indignant dog. When the sun is sifting through to the undergrowth, I am reminded of childhood stories of elves and fairies, and can almost hear tinkling laughter in the grasses.

This morning there is another beauty which one may find more difficult to celebrate in mid-April than in, say, mid-December. Heavy, wet snow has bent the branches low.  No self-respecting elf would venture out into this land of wonder, or puzzlement. My chilly dog huddles on the deck, free of the harassment of squirrels, for now.

When I was a full-time educator, my early morning window sights were pretty much negligible. The day unfolded according to a predetermined set of expectations.  Now I am increasingly conscious of the effect of the windows on my day. In season, I look out and consider my choices. Today I will not be working in my garden, putting laundry on the line, traveling down the road.  Today I will not take coffee and a book to the deck. The windows have determined that this is a day for sewing, possibly baking, and definitely pumpkin soup.  After another cup of coffee.