Daniela Ginta, Freelance Writer

Gratitude makes the journey better. Kindness, too.

Category: Life Stories Page 36 of 46

If You Believe In Making Good Things Happen, You Need To Vote

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On November 5, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Kamloops, Life Stories, Social issues

Originally published as a column in the AM News on Friday, October 31, 2014. 

It is a time of turmoil, social and political. A few days ago, thousands were present for Cpl. Cirillo’s funeral in Hamilton. Next is Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent’s funeral, who will be laid to rest on Saturday in what the family requested to be a private, no-press-allowed, ceremony. Lest we forget.

As the dust settles and other news will boil over, one can hope that the troubling questions left behind by the sudden and violent deaths of the two soldiers will be answered sooner than later. Much has been said about the charismatic smile of Cpl. Cirillo and his good nature, less so about why he was shot by someone who managed to run amok in an area that has at least one surveillance camera.

Presumably, someone was watching that screen at all times, in which case, how could a man with a long gun be overlooked. And if he wasn’t, where were the security forces that were supposed to come out in a blink and contain the situation before anyone got killed. Answers are not easy to come by, and accountability is an elusive creature we want to see materialized among politicians.

Then we have the lingering, growing as we speak, energy-related issues that transform people into rabid partisans of the pro and cons arguments. We see it all over the country, and we see it in our own city.

Ideally, our elected officials should be able to sort it out in a way that will be good for all and there will be someone who will answer the tough questions or pay the actual price of damage should any damage occur after all precautions have been taken. Or oppose a project unless it is done right, which is the latest case of the David and Goliath type of confrontation between Kinder Morgan and the city of Burnaby, mayor and people standing together. Accountability is what helps with that.

We can toil over these issues and more all we want; truth is, there is no easy solution. Problems arise daily, some bigger than others, and it is often that people feel helpless about them. Expectedly so, when questions fall of deaf ears. Which is why voting becomes the one thing anyone can do to lessen the feeling of helplessness.

Unless we go out and vote whoever we think will do a good job at addressing issues that have to do with the state of our democracy, our environment, education, health, housing problems, and so much more, nothing will be done in a way that feels right.

Someone said to me ‘if I do not vote, at least I cannot say I voted the wrong person when they don’t do their job…’ But is that the point? It is never a matter of whether a politician does it right or wrong by me only. I can voice my concerns, I can express ideas and if I feel in any way betrayed by the ones I chose, I have to take it further than just sanctioning their activity in my head.

I do not vote my personal councilors and mayor, just like you do not either. It is a concerted effort and, as always, my deed (vote in this case) will affect your life and the other way around. A community that can vote is a community where good things can happen.

There is no escaping this one if we want to see changes and issues dealt with in a responsible manner. Freedom of speech and freedom to vote are two important assets in a democracy and they should be exercised by the people who have them.

There have been multiple instances of freedom of speech being impended (see the case of Canadian scientists being silenced to the point of scientists from other countries expressing concern over practices that are unbecoming of a democratic government) and there are cases of truth being withheld for various reasons.

There are decisions being made in regards to pipelines, mines and fracking that are questionable to say the least. There are accidents such as tailing ponds ruptures, oil spills and chronic health issues in many who live near exploitation sites and no one has to live with the consequences expect for the people who suffered in the first place. There are provincial parks that may be having their boundaries redefined just so pipelines could run through it.

All these matters have to be addressed in a responsible manner. More than that, the government officials who address these issues and more, have to be accountable to voters and open to having dialogues as needed.

In which case, one wonders, where are such perfect politicians hiding?

There are no perfect humans, politicians or otherwise. But in case of politicians, they have to understand their mission and the trust they are given by people like you and me.

More so, they need to be able to stand up right, be accountable and make truth their ally. If we all speak the truth, things are bound to get better.

I guess the best way to describe my expectations for what’s to come is to say that we elect representatives that will keep on growing to become great politicians rather than go for the perfect ones from the start, because truth is, no one is perfect and everyone should be given chances to grow and do better every day. What I do ask though is openness and a social conscience.

For that, I will go vote and I urge you to do the same. It is a privilege to have choices.

Living In Fear Is Not An Option, But Something Needs To Change

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On October 29, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Life Stories, Social issues

(Originally published as a column in the AM News on October 24, 2014)

fallenOn the morning of October 22 a storm of bad news pounded through all media outlets starting from the east, and by the time western Canada opened their eyes to the world, tweets bearing the hashtag #Ottawashooting kept coming faster that you could read them. The attack on the Parliament building and the cowardly shooting of Cpl. Nathan Cirillo, the reservist who was standing guard at the National War Memorial, made it clear that nothing should be taken for granted.

The raw footage from inside the Parliament building where you hear shots being fired, many of them, voices overlapping and you see people running for cover, and the photos that kept coming all day long together with news, suppositions that perhaps more shooters are on the loose, made it all look like the country was under siege. Senseless attacks like this create the kind of smoke that is the hardest to get out of: fear.

Feelings of disbelief and anger were amplified by a previous senseless attack. On Monday, two Canadian soldiers got ran over in a parking lot in Quebec by an individual whose actions were linked to terrorism and whose activity had been monitored by the RCMP since knowledge of radical thinking was brought to their attention. Sadly, the abominable attack could not be prevented. Only one soldier survived.

We know for a fact, a disappointingly sad one that is, that the two alleged killers in these two latest attacks are Canadian. I find that hard to accept and understand. It is a sacrilege to turn against your own people and wrong to attack anyone simply because they wear a uniform. If their alleged connection to terrorist groups proves to be true, the question remains: What makes an extremist group and their ideology so appealing to people who live in a country where different values are emphasized?

Standing together against whatever evils might come from any violent groups outside of Canada makes sense, but sense goes missing when the attacks come from within. Is fear the answer though? Not at all.

Fear can make us watch our backs in ways that breed paranoia rather than prevent violence. Maintaining a neutral position on most political matters or simply keeping to yourself is not an option either. Having opinions, discussing and sharing thoughts makes us visible in the social context, and that helps address issues that might otherwise be milled inside our heads ad nauseam with no results.

Every time a senseless attack such as the one that took down three RCMP officer in Moncton, NB, or the one in Quebec, and lastly, the one on Ottawa, I cannot help but ask about the social circumstances that send the alleged criminals into a killing frenzy and whether we could do more to stop them.

It makes me wonder if we address mental and social issues the right way in order to prevent violence of any kind, from domestic to armed attacks on governmental institutions and their employees. It also makes me wonder if we have enough collective social responsibility to recognize when one of us is on the wrong path and once we do, to address it somehow, with help from the very authorities that may be under attack if we don’t.

We are a friendly country and the joke goes that you know you’re Canadian when you apologize when someone steps on your foot. Being at peace collectively is a good attitude, yet there is a fine line between not being bothered and not getting involved no matter what.

A wake up call such as the one that ensued from two innocent people dying needlessly points to an acute need to do better. Not out of fear but in order to tighten the social fabric that helps us stay strong and ready to defend our country’s values and beliefs.

We are but a few weeks away from Remembrance Day and this year, though we are not at war with another country, nor do we have any inside war-causing political turmoil, we will have a few more fallen soldiers and RCMP officers to honour, all killed senselessly while performing their duty or simply wearing their uniform.

Living in fear is not an option; fear creates havoc and breeds anger and violence. Yet the latest attacks tell us that something needs to be done. Watching our backs constantly and thinking the worst of everyone around is not the answer, but emphasizing the values we stand for as a nation and defining social responsibility can be a good start.

The School Conundrum. Again

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On October 10, 2014

In Life Stories, Motherhood, Self-improvement, Social issues

Morning todayThe trees in our front yard are raining leaves, swayed by the same gentle breeze that has been peeling off grey clouds from the hills that are now draped in a bright October sky. You cannot take this kind of beauty for granted.

I called the boys to witness the sight this morning. Fresh out of warm beds, pitter-pattering bare feet on the wooden floors, eyes and souls pried open by the carnival of nature. It’s Friday, a long weekend begins today and that is reason for celebration: among others, school is out until Tuesday. This year, the fall comes with changes we’ve been anticipating for a while but had yet to address: We are on the brink of homeschooling, at least part-time for now, unless the school deems such liberal approach unrealistic, in which case it becomes a full-time adventure. Conventional schooling has been creating a few ripples for a while now, and the reasons are as complex as they are puzzling.

It’s not academic challenges that have led us to where we are today but the opposite, and the negativity that sprouts from being immersed in a system that allows for wings to be clipped, thus preventing children to think for themselves instead of encouraging them to do so, and welcoming the challenge that can only lead to minds that will keep expanding. The world today requires thinkers more than ever; people who will challenge established, convenient views not for the purpose of being different but because they see occasional wrongness and are able to envision better outcomes through revisiting and reshaping concepts. That is a tall order.

I believe every independent, critical thinker starts with a baby dropping an object and delighting in being able to do it again and again (hopefully, if adults will allow) until one day the baby becomes the child asking why the object falls instead of floating and thus beginning the amazing journey of discovering the world. The question is: how do we make curiosity grow into creativity and critical thinking? Rules are different than boundaries, and rules that have no other explanation than ‘because I/we said so’ or ‘because that’s how it’s always been’ will work against everything that the human spirit is born to live up to.

I have, over the summer, witnessed my boys delving into what interests them without any reservations, waking up every day ready to create, play, read, run around, and share their joy of seeing the world and learning about it through the unique lenses each of us is born with. It’s easy to become addicted to that twinkle of joy in their eyes. Curiosity just ate a big portion of what will make my appetite for learning grow even bigger, they seemed to say.

On the other hand, I have witnessed morning grumpiness, frustration, moans and complains associated with going to school. Why is that? Many reasons that have, for a while, made me question whether my sons are seeing the world through negative lenses. Raised to trust a system that promises to address my children’s academic needs and help develop social skills and help them thrive, I ended up doubting it greatly and feeling as if I was failing my sons by not listening carefully to how they saw it all. While my youngest is still shielded from some of it, my oldest’s lists of complains has been growing steadily: Boredom, lack of challenging subjects, repetition of already learned topics, gratuitous forbidding of what one could call ‘normal children’s play’ by supervision aids who seem to forget that children need to feel welcome and safe rather than incarcerated in the space dedicated to learning of life skills, authority figures that fail, sadly, to grow into appropriate role models because the way they approach teaching and disciplining intimidate children, rather than motivate them to do better and learn more.

Six hours a day should cover enough interesting material to make the mind soar. Instead, it leaves my oldest say it is more of a daycare than he would ever want it to be. A few interesting topics covered do not make up for the ones that are either not challenging enough or downright insulting towards children that can and should be trusted with so much more. The problem is not all are at a level that allows for more challenging material, I am told by teachers. Many higher grade students struggle with basic things and that has to be addressed. I believe both teachers and students are double-crossed by a system that does not see the forest for the trees. It is not the teachers’ fault that children are not up to par, and if I am correct, we are witnessing the degradation of a learning system that has become children-led but not in a constructive way. Children need boundaries and guidance, rather than praise and complacency. They need to be presented topics that will pique their interests whatever those interests turn out to be, rendering them wide-eyed and ready to jump in with questions and delightful ideas to build further thinking avenues from then on. If a child falls into lack of interest and boredom or downright hates school, it’s not the child’s fault, or the teachers or the parents’, but the system that prevents all of them to move freely and understand that every child is born with a mind ready to learn and create and should be fully encouraged and nourished to do so.

A taste of added challenge is only for the gifted ones though, which, I am told, my oldest son is. I’ve never believed in that concept. I believe both my sons are creative in their own special way, just like every child is. As for gifted, the greatest gift of all, which is life, has been given to all of us. Beyond that, it’s up to them to build a path showing what they are interested in and it’s up to us adults to help their creativity and love of learning grow; through discussions about what they see, what they learn and through debates on topics that go beyond political correctness and ‘thou shall not’. I do believe that, given enough attention but also room to explore and find their interests, all kids have to potential to thrive.

Fall days ahead will be bringing sunshine and cloudiness, blue skies and grey, just like many hours of pondering over this complex matter will bring arguments that will help solidify our decision. Our decision, not mine or my sons’ alone, but ours as a family, ours as people who hold themselves accountable to each other, and  keep together, knowing what we stand for and honouring the amazing gift we’ve been entrusted with: life.

It should go up from here, bumps in the road notwithstanding.

To be continued…

Stories Of The Old

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On October 8, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Kamloops, Life Stories, Social issues

Originally published as a column in the AM News on October 2, 2014. 

A place to beShe said ‘I have something for you to borrow’ and walked to the hallway closet. From the top shelf she got a book. Green and old, hardcover, with writing that spilled the secret: a Kamloops directory from the late ‘40s.

I am visiting with my nonagerian friend I met when we moved to Kamloops. One sunny day in September of 2012 I walked barefoot across the street to her home and introduced myself. We’ve been close since.

We recently said goodbye to our first Kamloops home and I said goodbye to walking across the street to my friend’s home. It’ll be weekly visits from now on, just as good and pleasantly anticipated. Every time I visit with her she tells stories of old Kamloops, and we have a good laugh about many of them. She’s a keeper of memories like no one else. And sadly, one of the few left.

The house we moved into is a 1905 house in a downtown area where old houses still stand, hence my friend’s suggestion that I borrow the book and look up former residents. Our house comes with a soul and it seems logical that we look into finding out who added to it over the years.

My elderly friend always talks of the old days and reinforces my belief that we need to mind them more than we do nowadays. Because history is very hard to keep track of, true history, she says. And knowing how a place and its people came to be, helps us understand how we should shape the future so that it honours us, those before us and those who are still to come.

Kamloops has plenty of history still, and much of it stands right in front of you in shape of old buildings. Some are truly decrepit but some are not. Sadly, many will never make it past this decade.

Just two days ago, a close friend told me of the house her grandfather built and she grew up in. It came down to make room for an apartment building. If you’re ready to picture an old derelict unsafe house that had no future, you’re risking a false, gross assumption.

The house displayed beautiful features of old craftsmanship, mahogany walls and the kind of solid design that could make it through another century. It didn’t, unfairly so.

My nonagerian friend tells me of a friend who moved into a house just down the street that was built by W Jas Moffat, a former mayor of Kamloops and skilled home builder. She read about that in the book she gave me to peruse.

I drove home with the book and a car full of herb planters, drift wood and rocks I had left behind yesterday when we moved. I sat on the front steps among boxes and other paraphernalia, glanced at the river winding its way through the ever-growing new Kamloops and the beautiful hills rolling as far as the eyes could see and then I read through the book. I was struck by an interesting feature: each person had their occupation listed also.

You might be thinking about privacy and such. Oddly enough, it doesn’t violate any privacy concerns of mine. I consider myself a private person and wary of prying eyes in general. But a directory where everyone was listed with their occupation, rather than just an address, revealed a level of transparency that pointed to accountability and citizenship rather than gratuitous exposure.

The book I was holding had been a Kamloops directory, and nowadays is a history book. Not bad of a transformation.

There are stories written on every page, next to each name, just like there are stories written in the dark chocolate wooden floors I step on in our new dwelling. They have been here since 1905 and I consider it a privilege to be able to offer my sons a slice of old Kamloops, since as every recently transplanted resident knows, being new comes with feeling rootless.

Well, it turns out that you can grow roots if willing. Through people who share stories, and through places that you can love and are willing to work hard to bring back to life.

If I am to instill in my sons respect for the values that made Canada what it is and help them grow into citizens who know how to honour it, and demand the same from their political leaders, I figure it’ll be from the ground up, literally. The reverence an old building can inspire is not one we should take for granted. It’s the portal to the days when openness was not considered lack of privacy but civic responsibility. We need more of that.

If you are willing to accept that as truth, then it’ll make sense that the lack of transparency we see nowadays, from a neighborhood or town level to the highest political tier, leads to lack of accountability, damaging in the long run and clearly capable to hurt the solidity of our community and country, and transform the values our anthem reminds us of.

Speaking For The Trees And More Is No Longer A Trend But A Necessity

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On September 17, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Environment, Kamloops, Life Stories, Social issues

Originally published as a column in the AM News on Friday September 12, 2014.

It took almost two weeks for the trees across the street to be cut and sliced. There were four of them, all old and showing it in impressive girth, some guilty of a modern-day crime: having grown too close to the power lines.

Many early mornings of loud electric sawing later, the power line pole stands by itself, clear of potential danger. It had to be done, the team on site said. Two trees got too close, and the other two… well, it was decided that taking them down could prevent future problems.

Without pulling any Lorax tricks and jumping out of a stump to speak for the trees, I shook my head and wondered if maybe maintenance of a live tree would not be worth more than cutting it. After all, many a tree come down for various reasons, and some of the reasons support wants but not needs. A quick look at the increasing amount of flyers in our mail box in the last two weeks confirms it.

Throwing them and other bits of paper in the recycling bin offers little if any consolation. Trees came down for me to know that I can get pumpkin spice latte for only $3 during the month of October, or two pizzas for the price of one plus an oversized cookie.

I grew up in a yard that abounded with trees. We had a big pear tree that gave us pears and lots of leaves to clean each fall, a walnut tree that provided walnuts, great climbing and a slight amount of leafy grief to our neigbour’s gutters once it grew too big, many apple and plum trees, and a peach tree that was worth its weight in gold.

The gutter issue was solved by sawing off the rambunctious walnut branches and the tree lives to this day.

I remember my dad’s joy when planting yet another fruit tree somewhere around the yard or on the boulevard. I remember the day he showed me a fragile baby walnut tree in the back yard, proud of having saved it and talking about how it’ll grow into a beautiful one. It did. Many years later the fragile beginnings have been replaced by an impressive crown. My beloved dog was buried under it, my dad thought it that way…

One of the most powerful revelations I had as a kid was when I realized the depth of a simple, vital truth: trees provide oxygen for us to breathe. To live. Many strolls through beautiful forests of various kind later, the wonder of that astounding truth is humbling, more so because I know that we have the tools to terminate a 300-year-old tree but also countless, strong reasons to keep it alive.

Conservation of existing forests and wise decisions in logging should align with that. We need our forests more than ever before, given the increased pollution levels and the ever-growing threat of climate change.

A recent report published on September 4 by Global Forest Watch revealed that 8 percent of the world’s remaining pristine forests have been lost since 2000. Canada leads the way, deforestation-wise, the same report points out.

Tree planters may argue that they have been replanting ad nauseam, a welcome enterprise for sure. Yet it is worth remembering that old growth forests are not easily replaceable if at all. New trees simply cannot do the same as the trees of an old virgin forest that has developed a unique ecosystem over many thousands of years.

It is hard not to ask ‘Why?’ and ‘Why us again?’ in the context of many questionable environmental practices that have put our reputation at risk lately. Natural resources are to be exploited on a need-to basis and only after careful consideration, yet reality reveals the opposite.

This year saw the fisheries science libraries being dismantled, many scientists lost their jobs and many revealed a level of censorship defined as ‘muzzling’, which should never be allowed in a democratic society and in a country that has incredible natural resources that should be guarded in a way that befits their worth.

We hear of increased rates of cancer in areas where natural resources exploitation is at an all-time high yet governmental scientists deny it; we hear of tailings pond spillage that independent scientists classify as natural disasters given the way they affect human health and the environment, yet governmental organizations tell us there is no big danger; we hear of high levels of deforestation from international organizations but not from our own leaders, so it’s only natural to scratch our heads and ask who is right, where does the truth lie and whether our democratically voted leaders are truly watching over us and our country the way they should.

The levels of political interference that prevents truth from being revealed by independent scientists here in Canada should be worrying enough for everyone. Our land carries much wealth inside and out, and harvesting it without a conscience can lead to consequences that will haunt us and many generations to come.

Every tree we look at should become a reminder of the great wealth we were entrusted with by past and future generations alike. It is only natural that we make our voices loud enough and our intentions clear enough to save what can be saved and use only what we need. There is enough science to back us up, starting from the roots up.

Because You Came Back

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On September 13, 2014

In Environment, Kamloops, Life Stories

MorningIt was past 6.30am and the forest was silent. As if to tell you that you’re too late for the night swoosh; now they’ve gone to bed, all the critters unseen who own the path you’re stepping on.

The ground is padded with moss and lichen, all dry, all thirsty for water that might or might not come any time soon. Water is precious here. Dry crunching steps make you wonder if you’ve come too soon. You came to see the green. Dry is not enticing enough. Dry is dead. The forest argues that is not with a flap of wings and a rushed squirrel that stares long enough for you to know the forest is alive after all…

TransformDead is not here. Dead is not what you’re stepping on; old wood, soft as melted chocolate, that is not dead but transforming. Welcome to the forest. Have you forgotten? Keep on going, you’ll remember if you keep on going…

Crick, crack, your steps give you away. Creatures shy away in burrows one step away or a hundred, you’ll never know. You are the visitor now. Stop. Listen. Wings again, wideness you can read in distant flapping, wideness you can see if you close your eyes and let your mind draw the bird you just hear. Thus is for now the visitor status… Silence, trees that won’t tell a thing unless you stay long enough.

Once Stray away from the path, up and over the knoll that gives way to greener grass. Your feet are silent now, and they take you near old bones scattered among old gnarly branches and you think yourself as prone to the reality of life and death as the creatures who once bore them were…

Signs of human presence further on are somewhat abhorrent; here, now, an insult. The bone yard you stumble across has deer legs, furry with hooves still attached, scattered at awkward angles. They point to death, not transformation, in stark contrast with the grass they lay on and the clean skulls you found on the knoll… A blue ribbon, old and ruffled, marking something no one will know anything about, reminding of a presence that can be intrusive when it shouldn’t. Today you learn, from today onwards you will leave no marks…

The ground is damp here, grass and clover patches alive and bouncing back as you step on them. You follow the path overgrown with greenness and leave the dryness behind. There is more, there always is more, the leaves of distant birches perk up in a shimmering choir stirred by the gentlest breeze.

Rosehip bushes line the path and your gaze stops on each red blob; they punctuate the green space, diving into leafy pages you read as you walk.

Keep on walking, deeper still, the forest urges, you’ll the reason to return. You’ll hear why.

An animal path, a shy ramification of the human-made one, calls for you to discover how creatures find their way, how they dance and fear when you’re not around. They follow voices coming from within. Mystery.

Tock-tock-tock, a woodpecker. High and busy, it becomes the clock that divides time in increments smaller than you thought possible. Stop. Tick-tock… If time scurries so fast, won’t we run out of it too soon? No. You stop, long enough to make it stop. Listen. Time is measured by clocks with hearts, by hasty breaths, by how long it takes for larvae to grow and become food through relentless pecking. Tick-tock.

LifeNow you’ve seen it too. Time. Silence, and all the sounds hidden in it, coming out when crunchy steps give you away no more.  When your heartbeat matches the rhythms of the forest; not because you made it here and stayed long enough but because you’ve returned.

A Taste Of Canada

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On September 10, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Environment, Kamloops, Life Stories

Originally published as a column on September 5, 2014 in the Armchair Mayor News. 
SilentIt was Saturday morning and the sun was the brightest in a few days. We were planning an overnight hike to a nearby lake, the boys’ first if you don’t count a canoe camping trip we did a while ago.

Six of us, as we had two of our relatives from Europe, hiking enthusiasts who have never been into the Canadian back country. In a very subjective manner, we might’ve mentioned that British Columbia has the best of it. Subjective with a side of love if you will.

We loaded backpacks, fishing rods included, and somewhat delayed by an afternoon storm, started our trip later than planned. We took a forest trail that saw us chat two by two, drenched by sudden rain and amazed at the sight of tiny forest frogs, chipmunks and squirrels. Sudden wing flaps made room for guessing games about the birds we could not see, and so did crunching noises coming from farther away.

We kept our path and hit the lake two hours later. The adventure that followed included hiking through a swampy terrain and finding our way through thickets, thus helping the boys understand what bushwhacking really means. Rain continued, feet dunked occasionally as we stepped over slippery logs, mud abounded, but all six of us kept going.

The youngest of us got to ride on shoulders most of the way because small feet can only do so much in moose paradise. It really was. We found a moose bed and though we didn’t get to see a real one, we knew they were near. Wild and proud, Canada made us mucky travelers humbled to be there.

Our guests loved it, the boys did too (more so after we reached the cabin we were headed to) and we all had the unmistakable feeling of victory as we approached the cabin in what could be described as complete darkness.

CelebrationWe peeled off drenched clothing, the boys huddled in a sleeping bag together for warmth and us adults made a big fire and got dinner going. Restaurant dining and a walk through town would’ve never made our guests see what we truly wanted to show them. Canada at its finest: colours, textures, smells, simple beauty that if seen and felt for real, would make anyone not only proud but willing to work their hardest to keep it like that.

A bucket of stars spilled on the night sky, and we found the brightest ones on the lake surface as well. The chilled air of the early fall was drawing steam from summer-warm lake waters and because dinner was taking a while anyway, we went for a night swim. Try it at least once.

We toasted to great adventures, resilience and togetherness, and then we had a sleep guarded by far away loons and a harvest moon that fit perfectly above tall pines.

Soup for breakfast, pumpkin bread and coffee, complete with fishing and exploring the surroundings. Then we were ready to head back, hoping for a boat to take us across the lake so we can avoid swamp trekking.

Out of the blue, a boat came. We called on it, asked if crossing would be possible and the man graciously obliged. Two by two, we were deposited to the other side, leaving the swamps to the moose, because they do it better anyway.

We asked the man for his contact details so we can repay his kindness. Smiling he said ‘Not to worry, just pay it forward.’ We smiled back and promised we will. We do often; random acts of kindness are the best way to feel yourself human.

We trekked back. Rain and bright sun accompanied us and when we reached the car we knew the trip had become more than we ever hoped it would be. Our guests got to see what Canada is made of. Beautiful wilderness and kindness to start with; two valuable assets we should keep on guarding because they are part of the foundation we build our identity on. It definitely made us proud to say ‘Welcome to Canada!’

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