Haiku 4: Hebron

 

Bricks against a wall

Inuit forced from homes

Yet: "We forgive you."

Hebron Monday, October 7, 2024

It's been a while since I've written anything but I'm back at it now and am approaching the end of the entries about the trip to Greenland and Labrador last fall. This one is taken from my journal at the time.

Hebron Monday October 7, 2024.

I visited Hebron on our first trip with Adventure Canada in 2015. Then it was overcast and on the cool side. Today was a gorgeous, sunny and relatively warm.

I remember when I was here before chasing a number of little birds with an 800mm lens on a Nikon camera from the onboard lending program. This time there were very few birds. I guess most of them have left for warmer climates.

I noticed quite a difference in the state of the buildings from the last time.

Mind you, that is 9 years ago. Some of the buildings we walked into last time have completely collapsed. I remember taking photos of piles of bricks against the wall of a building.

There are still piles of bricks but the building no longer stands. I spent quite a long time just sitting on a rock, looking out at the sea and wondering if I would ever pass this way again.

My guess is that I won’t. 

One of the most striking features of Hebron are the three plaques that stand behind the church. The first is a copy of the apology offered to the people of Hebron becaused they were forced to relocate after the Moravian mission closed.

The second one contains the names of all the families who were forced to relocate. The third one, the most poignant to me, is the response to the apology.

Too late, I decided to try to walk up to the inukshuk on the ridge but when I got level with Randy he advised me that I didn’t have time to get there and back before we had to go back to the ship.

Better safe than sorry, I turned around and found it only took me 15 minutes to get back to the landing spot. Likely, I would have had time to get to the inukshuk and back but you never know and I certainly don’t want to be the person who causes the whole operation to come to a grinding halt because I’m off somewhere I shouldn’t be.

Apparently there is a huge storm coming in so the plans are changing: we will be in Nain tomorrow and then we will boot it for the safe harbour of St. John’s, before it hits. No Lanse Aux Meadows, no St. Anthony, and no Terra Nova Park. I was looking forward to seeing Lanse Aux Meadows again, and Terra Nova Park but that’s not in the cards for this trip.

[Here's a link to info from the Canadian Encyclopedia if you'd like to read more about the history of Hebron and the relocation. https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/hebron-mission-national-historic-site-of-canada

Ramah Bay, October 6, 2024

Well, happy new year and I’m back to writing about the fall trip. There are 5 destinations left: Ramah Bay, Hebron, Nain, Indian Harbour, and St. Johns. I’m going to give each location its own post because it’s easier to manage the photos that way.

So, let’s visit Ramah Bay which has been frequented by people for 7000 years. Ramah Bay was an important source of chert, a mineral used to make sharp edged tools. It was prized and widely traded. In fact, examples of chert from Ramah Bay have been found as far south and east as Maine.

Bear guard at sunrise

This was my second visit to Ramah Bay and we set foot on shore just as the sun was coming up over the horizon. The light was spectacular and something I hadn’t experienced having travelled there during summer when there were only a few hours of twilight between dusk and dawn. A short walk along the beach brings you to a waterfall. It’s possible to get in behind the waterfall and, on my first visit, I stayed on the beach near the waterfall. This time I decided to venture farther afield.

Person behind waterfall

MJ noted in his briefing that there was a hike up to an inukshuk on a ridge. He said it was challenging and not to take any chances. Normally that would have been enough to put me off, but since I had had so much fun on all the other hikes, I reasoned that I would give it a try, being careful to look back down to make sure that I could always see a comfortable exit route. If things in either direction started to look dicey, I’d turn around. The hardest part was crossing a stream but there were staff members stationed on either side to point out the best spot to cross.

I don’t remember if I mentioned that I fell twice on the hike the previous day. The first time I tested my footing on a slanted rock and it seemed ok but when I put my other foot on the rock both of them slid and I ended up on my butt. It was a very short slide so there was no damage done. I may or may not have said some colourful words. About an hour later, as I was plowing my way though some low willows, one of them caught my trailing foot and again I found myself on the ground. Good thing I was on my own because I got really ticked off that time. Other than being in a rather black mood for a while, I was fine. I guess things come in threes because as I walked towards the stream crossing in Ramah Bay I stepped on another slanted rock and ended up on my butt. This time I had an audience who were quick to make sure I was all right. I carried on across the stream and began the climb up to the ridge.

I chose my route carefully, remembering clearly all the times I hiked with Bill, Richard’s dad, and the things he taught me about choosing a path up a mountain. This climb was made easier than the ones in the Rockies because there were no trees so  the steep parts and rocky outcrops were more visible.

Climb up to the ridge

As I climbed I headed for the large slabs of rock recalling Bill’s voice saying that if I had boots with good soles it was fine to walk on slabs. What I had to watch out for was collections of small rocks on top of the slabs because those could become very efficient ball bearings that could send me flying. I didn’t fly or slip for that matter and I kept the promise to myself by often assessing the terrain for a suitable route down.

By the time I reached the ridge, the sun was up and it was quite windy. A large inukshuk overlooked the bay where the ship was anchored.

I chatted with a couple of people and then moved off the ridge out of the wind. I stood looking down at the ship standing in the golden light of early morning.

Inukshuk and Ocean Endeavour

This moment, and others like it, were the whole point of the trip. After a while, I made my way back down, stopping often to enjoy the view. I was fairly pleased with myself as I climbed into the zodiac for the ride back to the ship.

Shortly after dinner there was an announcement that the aurora was putting on a display. With the naked eye they just looked like grey wispy clouds against the black sky.

Using a longer shutter opening on either the camera or the phone revealed the intense reds and greens.

I stayed out on the deck watching the wisps undulate and dance until I began to shiver.

After a cup of tea and the customary notes in my journal I climbed into bed thinking how appropriately the light of the sunrise and the light of the dancing aurora had bracketed another memorable day.

A moment of grace

That title sounds a bit pretentious but I’m not sure how else to describe it. Let me start from the beginning.

We were delighted to spend the Christmas holidays this year in Vancouver with my uncle, aunt, cousins, and their families. On the morning of New Year’s Eve Sharon, my cousin’s wife, and I were sitting at the table, doing word puzzles, drinking tea, and watching the birds at the feeder.

Sharon had just filled the feeder for the first time this season and the birdy telegraph clearly told of a new food source, There were chickadees, pine siskins, and juncos, all chowing down.

As we watched the birds coming and going, chasing each other off and then returning to the feeder, one pine siskin came straight at the window flying a few inches from the ground under the area where warning decals were on the glass. He hit the window pretty hard and landed on the ground with one wing outstretched.

I wanted to hold him, to keep him warm. Sharon opened the patio door  and I took a few steps to where he lay. I slipped the fingers of my left hand under him. As I picked him up, his wing folded back against his side. I registered his closed eyes and his rapid breathing. How fast is normal for a tiny bird? There were bits of seed on his beak. I talked to him, I told him he was beautiful, told him I wanted to help him, told him he was safe. I don’t know how long I held him or what else I said to him. I didn’t want him to be afraid and I just kept talking.

After a while, he opened his eyes and moved his head a little. I took my top hand away and he continued to sit on my hand. Eventually I moved to the end of the picnic table and put my hand on the table top. By this time he was looking around. After a few more minutes I asked him if I could put him on the table. When I touched his back, he squawked three times and flew into the hedge.

I’ll never know if he survived. I hope he did. I do know that for those moments my vision narrowed and the only thing that mattered was the small bird, so light and soft in the warmth of my hand.

Photo courtesy of Sharon Preston

Davis Strait, Ekortiarsuk Fjord, and Eclipse Sound, October 2-5, 2024

Wednesday October 2 was a day at sea for us as we crossed the Davis Strait between Greenland and Canada. I love sea days with Adventure Canada because there are always interesting presentations to attend or, if I want to, I can sit back and do nothing. My favourite presentation of this crossing was given by Rogier on using the camera in an android phone. I picked up some really good tips about different ways to trigger the shutter. Dennis mentioned that on one of his trips to Antarctica, he noticed that the professionals were using their phones as their wide angle cameras so they didn’t have to carry more than one camera body. The phones really are becoming more and more capable as an alternative to a camera for the average photographer. In the evening there was a kitchen party which I thoroughly enjoyed and which I’ve written about in a previous post.

Our first hiking opportunity in Canada was in Ekortiarsuk Fjord. This year they divided the moderate hikers into two groups. I went with the faster group and was very pleased  that I could putter at the back while I took photos and then catch up with the rest of the group. At times I was even among the leaders. Our group did get a bit strung out and the tail enders started to merge with the slower group behind us. Some of us got permission from Heather, our group leader, to make our way back to the zodiacs via the beach. We walked along the tide line where there was slippery kelp and slimy rocks so balance was a challenge in a couple of spots; however I managed to remain upright after a couple of less than graceful moves. The photo highlight was a cross fox.

He isn’t really very clear because he was quite far from us and his head is turned away from my camera. I was delighted to see him nonetheless. One of the compromises I make by not carrying my mirrorless camera is that I can’t get really good close-ups of wildlife. I still enjoy the experience though.

It was on this hike that I became disenchanted with my boots. They are the same size I usually wear but are a different brand. I found they were just not snug enough to give me really secure footing. In addition, they were supposed to be waterproof. The right boot was fine. The left boot leaked. That’s not acceptable in my world.

In the dining room I had a few of those ‘small world’ moments. Tina, the geologist on the trip, and I discovered that we live only a few blocks apart in Calgary. Later I met two woman also from Calgary neighbourhoods very close to me.

Friday October 4 saw us in Eclipse Sound. Again I hiked with the moderate fast group and was quite comfortable with the pace. There had been a bit of backing and forthing about chatting while on hikes. Some folks enjoy socializing as they walk and others find conversation irritating and want to be alone in nature. It’s not a problem for me. Sometimes I chat and sometimes I don’t. It’s pretty easy to tell from the response whether a person is happy chatting or not, and if I don’t want to chat I simply place myself far enough away from others that I don’t have to. Dave Freeze who was leading our hike collected us and suggested that we do the next part of the hike up to the ridge in silence and then spend a few moments at the top just enjoying the land. We did that and I got a couple of good shots of people as they rested and looked out at the tundra and the fjord.

In the afternoon we took a zodiac cruise to see a polar bear and her two cubs that had been spotted on land. We got close enough to get a reasonably good look at the trio but not so close as to disturb the bears as they wandered along the shore and the cubs slid in and out of the water.

After seeing the bears the plan was to go up the river to the bottom of a waterfall

but there was clearly a front coming in and it was getting a bit bumpy so our driver decided not to chance it. Anyway one of the other drivers reported on the radio that he could only get half way up to the waterfall. Instead we headed for a zodiac that appeared to contain a couple of polar bears. These bears were not at all skittish and proffered spiked hot chocolate.

Our Christmas letter

Another year has gone whizzing by and I haven’t written a Christmas note to one single person, so I thought I’d do it en masse this year. Since the pandemic Richard and I have been indulging our hermit natures. We are singing in only one choir; Richard has continued with voice lessons and I have continued with lutherie lessons. Other than that, we’ve pretty much stayed home and there are many nights when we say to each other, “I’m glad we don’t have to go anywhere tonight.” Changed days from when the only time we stayed home was when we couldn’t find something to do elsewhere.

We are exploring options for heating the shop more evenly so I have been able to spend more time in there when the weather is cold. I’ve been getting better at using my scroll saw, one of the first power tools I got from my colleagues at Forest Lawn High School when I retired. After Richard gave it an overhaul last year and with some careful practice on my part, the blades are staying put most of the time rather than pulling out on tight turns. I made a variety of ornaments for Christmas this year. Some people got a lamb made from two different woods. I cut mittens, gingerbread people, cat and dog variations, and some funky travel trailers. Sorry I don’t have many photos as most of them are already wrapped and under Christmas trees.

I have patterns for intarsia ornaments that make up an entire manger scene and I’d like to construct the whole thing at some point. Rather than ornaments to hang, though, I think I’ll put small stands on each of the figures so they can be displayed on a table or mantle. That may or may not happen in the coming year as I tend to get involved in other projects and realize in October that Christmas is coming and I need to get a move on.

Richard has continued to write music. He’s working on another piece for his “Summer Suite for Harp and Cello” - a set of pieces he’s been composing for a friend who is a beginning harpist and her daughter who is a professional cellist. Writing pieces so the harp is easy enough and the cello part is still interesting has been a fun challenge for him.

He also wrote a new Christmas benediction for the choir. Writing “incidental music,” as it’s called, is rewarding because it is performed more than once a year, unlike an anthem. In addition he continues to transpose songs for me for the ukulele, and he figures out chords when the standard 3 chords I use for songs don’t quite cut it. He wrote a vocal trio called “Bunny Slippers” that he and two friends will perform at the year end recital for the vocal studio. I’m not going to give too much away here but it’s going to be a real crowd pleaser with just the right amount of silliness. This past Sunday he and I sang his arrangement of ‘The Birthday Carol’ in church and people told us they enjoyed it. It’s so wonderful to have Richard and his knowledge of music as a resource in the house. I go at it intuitively playing ukulele by ear and that only gets me so far before I get stuck. When I do I turn to Richard who is always willing to help. Sometimes we play ukulele together. It’s a productive mix because I have a background in classical guitar technique and Richard has in depth musical knowledge. We appreciate learning things from each other.

Richard has enjoyed connecting with a friend once a week to play a co-operative computer game. With a busy calendar, it’s a flexible way for both of them to keep the friendship alive while killing off evil zombies. Judging from the noises and snippets of conversation that come from the study when Richard is playing, it’s completely engaging. “Where are you? Oh I see you. Watch out he’s over there! Nonononononono (pause) I just died (pause) again.” I have it on good authority that the noises coming from the other player are of similar intensity.

Some of the highlights of the year have been trips out to Vancouver to visit family. In the milder months we drive and in the colder ones we fly. One trip was particularly special in that we helped my uncle celebrate his 98th birthday. He and I had a lovely chat about his younger years and his memories of Mum. As I grow older I cherish the time I spend with family whether it be family by blood or family by choice. I read somewhere, although I’ve been unable to track the quotation, that when we retire we move from focusing on achieving things to focusing on appreciating things. I have many more things I want to accomplish and, at the same time, I’m more aware of the daily things I can appreciate.

This came into sharp relief this summer when Richard was faced with an unexpected surgery. All went well and he has completely recovered. We cancelled the first of our scheduled back-to-back trips with Adventure Canada out of the Northwest passage. That was disappointing for both of us but we have a plan to take the trip next fall so cross your fingers for us. Once we tried to get through the passage and were stopped by ice. This summer it was because of health issues. I’m going on the third-time-lucky theory for the fall of 2025. I was able to take the second trip from Greenland to Newfoundland as you will know if you’ve been following the blog. Yes, I am going to finish writing about that trip in the near future.

There are other changes around us. Due to a rezoning bylaw, what was once a neighbourhood of single-family dwellings is rapidly becoming a neighbourhood where bungalows are knocked down and replaced by buildings with anywhere from 6 units to over 100 units in them. I can’t say we love this and it will, no doubt, get personally annoying when the two houses across the alley from us come down and construction begins on a four storey combination residential and retail building. There is one going in down the block which is almost finished and the alley is always blocked by construction vehicles. I admit to being just a tiny bit cranky about the prospect. Oh well, I will do my best to follow Mum’s advice and ‘cross that bridge when we come to it.’

We had some work done on the camper van early in 2024 anticipating that we’d spend a good deal of time during the summer travelling in it. That didn’t happen so we have yet to enjoy the new awning and the improved lighting in the interior. We are hoping to travel next summer although we haven’t made any firm plans as yet. I’m also planning to arrange space in Beano, our 31 year old Toyota van, so that we can spend the night in it if our plan is to get somewhere quickly rather than make a lot of stops. It is much easier on gas than the camper and we would still be able to take advantage of camping which we both enjoy. It’s also a fun project.

In the new year we are planning to join a second choir; I have joined a ukulele jam that meets once a week; and Richard is investigating ways for us to work more consistently on our fitness. 2025 is an open book. Richard and I wish you a Merry Christmas and health and contentment for the new year. May the surprises that inevitably happen be delightful ones

Haiku 3 Hands

 

Seven hundred years
Mummified by cold and wind
Hands reach out to me