The West Commences: Walkerton and back west

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Walkerton and back west

I'm in the airport in Calgary waiting for the plane to Vernon and trying to stay calm after having just erased all the blog text and pictures I had put together in the Kitchener airport and on the plane here. It's a minor first world problem. I'm over it already. Things are put into perspective by the memory of the news story I read in the Kitchener airport about the earthquake that struck Mexico City a few hours ago, on the same day as the one that killed thousands there in 1985. Jim, Jay and I saw the devastation of that one as we drove in a taxi from the north bus station to the south one on our way to Cuernavaca in early January, 1986.

The last week of my trip east was spent in the lush green land of Brockton. I was especially impressed by the peaceful beauty of the place after having spent a couple of hours on my way there in and around Union Station in Toronto. It was under restoration with scaffolding, tarps and plywood everywhere, nowhere to eat and homeless people on the street, two men barefoot and sprawled on the sidewalk within a block of each other and a young woman further down leaning almost unconscious in the heat of the sun against a wall holding a sign that read, "homeless and pregnant."

Cathy and Brian met me at the Kitchener train station just before sunset. We drove to Walkerton through fields of corn and soy beans. While I was there we went to the Tara fall fair, a Mennonite market and an apple orchard. We took walks and drives. One day we drove to Kincardine for our traditional lunch there. Mark took me to an auction of trees and bee equipment and on the ATV to see his growing bee colony at the farm. The whole family gathered there one afternoon for dinner. I felt at home.

Now after leaving and returning to Vernon so many times I feel I'm going back where I come from, especially as Jay will be meeting me at the Kelowna airport in about five minutes.