A Walk in the Forest

Tonquin Beach

A bench to honour a friend

in the spirit world

Menina's pond

An example of culturally modified trees.

The Nuu chah nulth use the bark

in their cedar weaving and basket work.

"Listen carefully with your whole being 

to the ones who are now quietly speaking....

observe the plants, animals, forest, 

ocean, sky and heavens - 

that reality which is the source of life."

There is a system of interconnecting trails winding

through the forest and down to the beach. 

The village of Tofino and 

the Nuu chah nulth people

joined together to expand the trail system.

It was a wonderful Sunday afternoon walk, 

with views of water and forest. 

I thought I would share it with you. 

This forest is all second growth. 

In the 1930's, local history has it,  

a man had a 500 acre allotment in this area, 

and he clearcut the whole thing. 

Thankfully, it has grown back,

and there are some big trees 

among the younger ones.

Seeing With Eyes of Hope, Listening as the Forest Speaks

Gisele Martin

Tofino Ambassador Program

photo by Tofino Mayor, Josie Osborne

She wears rose-coloured glasses,

sees with eyes of hope,

teaches we who want to learn

about the Old Ways,

the true ways.

"In those days, people and plants

and trees and animals

could speak to each other,"

she explains.

"We have forgotten how."

But, I know,

we can learn again.

We must.

She is passionate about

learning her tribal language,

keeping the ancient words alive.

She speaks them to us;

we repeat them:

Naciqs for Tofino ~

the spot where guardians

once kept watch 

over all the waters;

T'ashii, the path

on land and water;

His-shuk-nish-tsa-waak,

my favourite, which means

"Everything is one."

The Tla-o-qui-aht have lived here,

interconnected

with the land and the water,

for thousands of years.

"We are careful,

when we harvest bark or plants,

taking some, but leaving much more,

so there will be harvest

for future generations.

"The salmon feed the forest,"

she explains,

bear and wolf scat

bringing nitrogen to the trees

to keep the woods alive.

Long have her people

respected the territory

of whale and wolf and bear,

eagle and even

the lowly slug.

"If we enter the forest

and find a wolf den,

we leave immediately.

We honour their territory."

The Nuu-chah-nulth Ha-Houlthee 

- territory -

is ruled by their nation.

No treaties were signed

in the days when Europeans came

and took what they wished.

We non-natives

are living 

on unceded land.

May we be mindful

of this.

May we tread softly,

respectfully, here.

May we remember that,

to the First Nations,

the wolves, the bears,

the ancient forests, the whales,

we are merely 

guests here.

T'ashii Cultural Canoe Tours

source

for Brendan's prompt at Real Toads: to write about a heroine. I recently have been taking workshops and guided walks with Gisele Martin, a wonderful young local woman who is passionate about keeping her ancient language alive, and who offers teaching sessions as part of the local Ambassador program. I could listen to her all day as she tells her stories, speaks of the history of her people, and talks about living respectfully with the land, a subject so dear to my heart. Any mispelled words are completely my fault. Smiles.

Also shared with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United.

Upon the Shores of My Heart

source

Clayoquot Sound

called me forth

out of the desert,

brown and bare,

into the pulsing, alive,

thrumming heartbeat

of Mother Earth herself.

She lay before me

sandy shores, the ocean's roar,

mountains wreathed in fog

and mist,

her ancient trees,

the eagle's cry.

Activists, dancing and singing

on the road,

protecting wilderness,

beckoned to me

and my heart knew

I was home.

She sang to me

in whalesong,

in  sand  and surf,

in the timpani

of raindrops on salal.

She captured my heart

forever.

And now I'm heading home,

through the misty mountains.

I round the bend in the road

and there she is:

her endless waves,

rolling forever and forever

onto her welcoming shores.

I have, for half my life,

lived in thrall

to the lulling song of the sea,

her waves rolling in,

slate-grey and

frothed with foam,

forever advancing

and retreating

upon the shores

of my heart.

Sharing this with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United, where you will find good reading on Sunday mornings.

The Tired Lady of the Marketplace

                                                           

A Corner of the Market

Edward Emerson Simmons

He found her in the marketplace,

stopping to quickly sketch

her tiredness.

Moved by her plight,

he bought an apple,

brushing her hand with his

as he handed her a copper,

hoping for a smile,

though it seemed her face 

had forgotten how.

Gathering Wood

Edward Emerson Simmons

The next time,

she was gathering wood.

There were no hopeful dreams

in her eyes,

just the reality

of working long days 

for room and board,

searching for twigs

to warm 

her master's hearth.

This time he asked her 

if he might sketch her,

for pay,

the better to capture 

the details of her dark eyes,

the longer,

if truth be told,

to gaze openly

at her beauty

with his artist's 

appreciative eye.

He felt himself

wishing he could

spirit her away,

show her comfort and ease.

But it was impossible

for he was gentry,

and she a mere servant.

He watched her from afar,

pouring his emotion

into his paintings,

in which her poverty,

her fatigue,

her struggles,

were all laid bare.

by Edward Emerson Simmons

How random life is,

the accident of birth

determining

a bed of roses

or of thorns.

A series of paintings,

and then she disappeared,

leaving him to wonder,

pensive by the fire,

puffing on his pipe,

drinking his brandy,

what had become

of the tired young lady

of the marketplace.

for Shay at Fireblossom Friday: a poem inspired by the paintings of Shay's uncle, Edward Emerson Simmons.

Happiness

for the singing waves,

backing and forthing

on the shores of my heart,

I give thanks,

for the green wall of cedar

outside my open window,

and the blue sky, cloud-dotted, above,

for the small hummer at the feeder,

nibbling on my soul each time she drinks,

for contentment so blessed in old age,

I give thanks.

for the miracle of a dream

come true, not once, but twice,

for finding myself on the edge of the sea

once more, with the song of the waves

playing through me,

soul music,

and for the smiling villagers,

full of art and poetry,

for the loved dogs

laughing along the shore,

for sunlight on the green forever sea,

and for blooms opening

under the morning sun,

as my eyes open upon wonder,

morning after morning,

I give thanks,

I give thanks,

I give thanks.

for Susan's wonderful prompt at Midweek Motif: Happiness. The poem examples given were inspiring.  I have so many chest-expanding moments of happiness and gratitude, living in this beautiful place, where I belong. Do join us, in this feast of happiness!

Dusk

When dusk slides into evensong and shadow,

and songbirds trill in flower-scented bower,

crickets sing sweet night-songs in the meadow,

peace and gratitude abide, this gentle hour.

When songbirds trill in flower-scented bower,

the skybirds find their nests. The stars wink on.

Peace and gratitude abide, this gentle hour,

the world adrift until the morrow's dawn.

The skybirds find their nests. The stars wink on.

The garden fills with fairy folk and firefly.

The world's adrift until the morrow's dawn.

We light candles to do our dreaming by.

The garden fills with fairy folk and firefly.

Crickets sing  sweet night-songs in the meadow.

We light candles to do our dreaming by,

when dusk slides into evensong and shadow.

A pantoum for the Tuesday Platform at Real Toads, hosted today by Pat.

Tofino Skies

On the way to South Beach

The wild waves

of Wickaninnish

To Chestermans

for the sunset

A visitor

Sunset at Chestermans

Yesterday being Mother's Day, I decided to do only what I felt like. I drove to Wickaninnish in the morning, came home to enjoy sitting on the deck in the sun in the afternoon, and went to Chestermans last night for the sunset. It was fun watching the surfers riding the waves as the sun went down. I was sitting near a beach fire, so I got to enjoy that wonderful smell, if not the marshmallows. No dogs came near, sadly, but a crow came and kept me company for a while. 

I hope mothers everywhere had as wonderful a day.