From Fort to Forest

This wonderfully, creative set of stairs takes us from the Historical Fort Willow site to the Ganaraska Trail.

Historic Fort Willow, one of Springwater Township’s oldest historical sites, was a supply depot at the halfway point between Kempenfelt Bay and the Nottawasaga River.

The location of the former buildings have been located, and their outlines restored.

Every September, before the arrival of Covid19, the Festival of Fort Willow was held. The Festival brings to life the daily activities of the Indigenous people living in Simcoe County in 1812, British soldiers, and camp followers.

A garden, at the centre of the fort, features the Three Sisters. Corn, beans and squash.

Great walking trails, the Ganaraska, the North Simcoe Rail trail, and the Trans Canada trail surround this historical site.

Screaming Heads

Canadian artist, and sculptor, Peter Camani, created Screaming Heads on his property, Midlothian Castle, near Burk’s Falls, Ontario.

The Screaming Heads, which remind me of a painting by Edvard Munch, with the feel of works by Salvador Dali, creat an outdoor masterpiece that needs to be explored more than once.

It’s a wonderous, 310 acres, that Camani has transformed into a land of forests, ponds, wild flowers, and gigantic works of art.

Every path has it’s own direction.

Prehaps the hands mean for us to stop. To be mindful. To reflect. To ponder. To examine. To stop, and to smell the wild flowers.

Oh what a web, a spider can weave.

Some of the puzzle pieces that make you want to explore some more.

The home of a Canadian artist and sculptor.

Midlothian Castle, just outside of Burk’s Falls.

Something around every corner.

Found these guys atop the walls surrounding the castle.

The person who came up with the phrase, ‘Ontario, yours to discover!’ was right on the mark. We have so many great places, and great people, to discover. Right in our own backyard!

We thoroughly enjoyed our day here! Definitely on our list of places to explore again!

Wolves of the Haliburton Forest

A part of the wolf pack at Wolf Lodge, in the forests of beautiful Haliburton.

Housed in a 15 acre enclosure, these very photogenic wolves rested, and played, and lazily responded to the click of my camera.

I remember when, as a young girl, my father calling us to gather at the kitchen window. Together we stood, and watched, as a pack of wolves bounded across a field of hay.

My father referred to them as Timber Wolves. We witnessed wild life at it’s finest on that day. I, sadly, haven’t seen a wolf in the wild since that time.

Free to roam 15 acres of natural forest, we were very happy to find the wolves very close by.

The wolf pack that ran through our fields so many years ago, were viewed through the glass of an old kitchen window.

The wolves of Wolf Lodge were viewed through thick panes of glass.

We watched as this wonderful wolf gently encouraged the wolf cubs to move out of the sun, and into the shade of the enclosure’s beautiful trees.

Perfect picnics tables to close a back to nature kind of day!

Ending the day, with good food, and good company.

Butterflies, Bumble Bees, and a Hummingbird!

We could learn so much from the birds, the bees, and the butterflies!

Spelunking – The Nottawasaga Bluffs

Exploring the geological features of the Nottawasaga Bluffs, reminded me of the adventures we would have when our relatives would visit from Holland.

It brought back memories of visiting the Scenic Caves, near Collingwood. Us all lining up, the Tanta’s in their dresses, and the Oma’s in their white shirts and dress pants, to squeeze through what was then called ‘Fat Man’s Misery. ‘ A narrow opening between two gigantic rocks, that were icy cold to touch even in the heat of summer.

Exploring new Caves. Making new family memories.

Like my chiropractor keeps telling me, ‘Motion is Lotion.’ I’m thinking that I might now be of similar age to what my Oma’s and Tanta’s were away back when.

Spelunking – the exploration of caves, especially as a hobby.

Canada Day 2021

Every Child Matters. Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Today, reflecting on the meaning of Canada Day, I am thinking about my parent’s decision to emigrate to this wonderful country almost 70 years ago.

I remember, as a small child, my aunt saying to me ‘Speak English, we came to Canada to be Canadians.’

I have always been very proud to call myself a Canadian. First as a Dutch Canadian, then somewhere along the line the word Dutch was dropped and I simply became a proud Canadian.

I saddens me deeply, as I become more educated about the true losses suffered by our Indigenous peoples. The loss of their homes, their economies, and most of all, the loss of their children. Through the hands of our churches, and, of our governments.

I am hoping that this Canada Day will be marked as the beginning of truly righting the wrongs that were committed. Righted, so the true healing may begin, and that we, and the world, can learn from the wrongs commited in our past.

On our Canada Day hike. Overlooking the traditional territory of the Anishinaabe including the Ojibway, Potawatomi, and Odawa of the Three Fires Confederacy

Fairy Houses, on the Forest Floor

The Fairy House - by Rose Fylemam

As I was walking homeward
One early summer's day
I met a little fairy
Tripping on her way

Her bonnet was a bluebell
A daisy was her gown
Her wings were bits of sunshine 
Trimmed with thistle-down

I think she had been to market
For as she hurried by
I peeped into her basket
To see what I could spy

A pair of tiny slippers 
A reel of golden thread 
A tiny jar of honey
And a weeny loaf of bread

I hid amongst the tall grass 
As still as I could be
The Fairy gave a ratt tatt tatt
Upon a hollow tree
And then for just an instant

I peeped into her house
And do you know what?
The front door was opened 
By a mouse!

Life of the Forest – part three of three – The Peaceful Forest.

'A hive for the buzzing bees
A nest for birds
There ain't no words
For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder of the.. '          by the Cowsills
OF THE TREES!!!!

Having read both Finding the Mother Tree, and The Hidden Life of Trees, I have decided to allow the centre of our forest, the little piece untouched by my saw and slippers, to remain as it is.

This small portion of the forest is home to three large oak trees, numerous pine and spruce trees, and a variety of coniferous and decidous saplings. Plus grasses, ferns, wild flowers, and a wide variety of fungi.

A forest where the trees connect with the soil, with the fungi and the mushrooms, communicating through a large underground network.

Red Squirrels have turned this old pile of brush into their home.

From someone else’s forest floor, to our forest floor.

While looking at this part of the forest, I am reminded of a story my father used to tell about his first impressions of this new country, Canada, he and his small family were about to call home.

When stepping off of the train, surrounded by forest, he surveyed the area and thought to himself, ‘it won’t be difficult to find employment in this country, they have yet to trim their trees.’

In the forest the Mother Trees recognizes, and talks to their kin, shaping future generations.

I have always been a tree hugger, but now I hug them for a different reason. Or maybe now I’m realizing the reason.

Every Child Matters

‘While the world gently weeps’ – George Harrison

In the summer of 2014, my family and I, along with my cousin from Kamloops, attended the 35th annual Kamloops Pow Wow. One of the largest celebrations of First Nations culture and heritage in Western Canada.

On our walk from the parking lot to the Pow Wow, we passed a large, grey, dark building. My cousin educated us on the original use of this structure, the Kamloops Indian Residental School. We could feel the cries and sadness that eminated from the building.

In sharp contrast to the beauty, the power, and strength, of the Pow Wow.

A small child stands at the top of the stairs at the bottom of Spirit Catcher, in Barrie, On., on the shores of Kempenfelt Bay, holding a sign that reads EVERY CHILD MATTERS.

This morning, at Springwater Provincial Park, I dropped some sacred tobacco onto the smoldering ashes of a sacred fire. I prayed for all of the abused children, and for those children suffering from abuse today.

Strength, power, beauty, and I hope, healing.

Life of a Forest – part two – The Manicured Forest

Before reading Finding the Mother Tree, and The Hidden Life of Trees, I wanted our forest to be pretty, park like, and tidy.

I spent the past two springs working hard, with park visions in my mind. This work had to be done by early to mid May, when that dreaded poison ivy plant would emerge and very quickly blanket this part of the forest floor.

I busied myself trimming trees, clipping saplings, and removing anything dead or estheticly unpleasant.

After reading these two, very informative books, I’ve come to realize that what I have removed from the forest belongs in the forest.

This past week I’ve walked, where the poison ivy does not rule, and have made my peace with the unnecessary cutting and cleaning done by my hands.

Next spring, when new seedlings sprout and bloom, my little piece of forest will be quite different. It will allowed to develop, and move to its own groove.