I have just finished reading a book Linda sent to me, The Songlines by Bruce Chapman. I had not heard of him, but I think I will look for more of his work. He’s a ‘storny great’ traveler, observer and thinker, and much of what he wrote escaped me. But a lot of it interested me very much. The songlines are one way of referring to the paths that cover the surface of Australia. Unseen by all but the aboriginals, and even by them more sensed than seen, they mark the journeys of the ancestors in the ‘Dreamtime’. Each individual is connected to one of the many ancestors and thus to one of the long trails that weave back and forth and cross the whole continent, hence the nomadic nature of Australian aboriginals. They don’t seek home and possessions; they follow a path. Although the story is set in Australia, Chapman refers throughout to notes he has taken from his readings, other travels and discussions he’s had with people. At one point he quotes Soren Kierkegaard who wrote in a letter in 1847, “Above all, do not lose your desire to walk: every day I walk myself into a state of well-being, …; I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it…” The thoughts of Chapman and Kierkegaard are more profound than mine, but my grief makes me try to approach an understanding of them, and my experience lately helps me appreciate the sense of liberation that follows a walk. It moves you out of yourself and away from the material worries that wrap up daily life. I’m no Australian aboriginal; my walks are short, I enjoy and am burdened by possessions that they eschew and even if Vernon gets as hot as it’s supposed to in summer, it will never approach the heat and searing sun of the Australian outback. I’m a daughter of Cain visiting her uncle Abel.
The hike tomorrow was supposed to be along Vidler Ridge, in the high country, but I received an email this morning saying that because there is so much snow up there, we will be going to Ravine Edge which is lower down. We will meet at 7:30am to get an early start because it’s supposed to be hot tomorrow, and we won’t be up high where it’s cooler. It will be a shorter and easier walk than the one last week on Estekwalon Mountain, but safer. Because the snow this year is staying in the high country, the bears are wandering down in search of food. There have been sightings in the area we were supposed to go to and people have been mauled in some higher remote areas; one woman was even killed. I missed both bike rides this week, the first because of my misunderstanding of where we were to meet and the second because I had an appointment to get my hair cut. I now look like a ‘peeled eel’, as my mother would say. I always expect a hairdresser to make me look beautiful, and all they ever do is cut my hair, usually shorter than I want it to be. I went biking on my own one morning and discovered that if you want to bike in Vernon, you have to be prepared for hills and for bike paths to end and leave you pedaling on a sidewalk or the side of a road or highway. I did get to a good lookout over Kalamalka Lake and then down to the beach, but I missed the wonderful Ottawa bike paths and the quiet back roads of West Quebec. And the beer at Molo’s.
I am now putting it in writing, “ I’m finished gardening until fall.” I bought and planted a beautiful Northern Gold Forsythia this week. And I broadened the beds, put compost on the plants and spread a bark mulch between them. That’s it.
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