Another Year , Another Winter, The Blue Still Shines
Thank you. Happy Wintering!
 |
| December 13, 2016 |
 |
| January 22, 2015 |
 |
| November 14, 2014 |
A Collection of Lake Fx Columns
17 for 17
I begin to write this
on New Year’s Eve. Frigid arctic air blankets most of Canada. Ottawa’s New
Year’s celebrations are frozen in storage. But before I thaw out and embrace
2018 I need to think about and thank 2017 for all it gave me.
Outside my window, a
line of cloud mountains has dominated the watery, Lake Superior horizon for
several days. I never have seen a mass of sea smoke sit so still for so long. Yesterday
morning we spotted a lake freighter several kilometres away; its white bow and
stern were pin prick dots against that blue/ grey winter fog wall. Brrrr.
Hurray for cabin warmth and fireside musings! So here are 17 things that
resonated with me during 2017.
The abundance of wet
weather brightened up a special aspect of the forest. Usually by midsummer the mosses are dry and crackly, perking up
for a brief time between the rains. But this year the mosses were the stars of
the show. Brilliant greens thickened boulders and hung from trees adding a
unique softness and radiance to the bush.
The extra amounts of
moisture also heightened water levels. Fall storms have deposited new driftwood onto the shore. Some of
the pieces are lake washed, twisted roots from eroded trees. I do wonder how
long before the water recedes once more.
Hiking is inspirational
itself, but this fall was a true treat. Kathleen Cote, a staff member from Lake
Superior Provincial Park, read Mary Oliver’s poem, Wild Geese, at the first
lookout on the Awausee Trail. Now that was real
poetry.
The closest community
to the north of Montreal River is Wawa, a great little town with a big heart. How
wonderful to see the 2017 resurrection of the Wawa Goose.
The closest community
to the south of Montreal River is Batchawana Bay. This summer some friends
there shared with us some terrific
tasting, homemade, St. Mary’s River smoked salmon.
Also this summer the
Friends of Lake Superior Provincial Park began plans for the construction of a 2018 handicapped platform on Agawa beach.
Congrats Friends!
Closer to home, for our
own projects, we discovered the Boreal 21
Agawa Canyon Saw. Designers of the cool tool describe it as a revolutionary
53.3 cm folding bow saw that unfolds in seconds for easy high performance cuts.
We can attest to that fact as Ward has used the saw many times on our trail
clearing expeditions.
As well as giving us
many trail building days, the amazing 2017 warm autumn gave me opportunities to
swim in October! Thank you Lake
Superior.
2017 was a good year
for artistic expression. Linda Nanchin’s hand
painted cards have inspired me to draw and sketch. Nanchin is a self taught
artist whose fine work illustrates the beauty of nature and the rewards of “just
doing it”.
So in the late fall I
kick-started my desire to draw and took a sketching
lesson with Taimi Poldmaa’s at her art studio in The Tech on Wellington
Street in Sault Ste Marie. Poldmaa taught me how to see the world from a
different perspective.
This different
awareness of light made it possible to further appreciate the constant changes of
the shoreline. In December, winds had pushed waves to the very back of the
beach. After one of those storms we saw
pebble arrangements like no other. A huge section of same plum sized cobble
froze together to create a wide knobbly “boardwalk”. What fun!
Earlier in the fall,
while trekking that same beach, I had the luck to notice over two dozen loons. The day was calm and their lonesome calls
alerted me to their presence. They swam towards each other, all the while
making soft blip noises. The loons were gathering, about to have a chat before
the flight south.
No Lake Superior look
back on 2017 could be complete without mentioning the paddling. Our canoe days floating over underwater gardens of gigantic
boulders are wonderful memories that never fail to fuel up the winter dream
time.
At this same time I am
thinking about the caribou and the wolves
on Michipicoten Island and how their interlinked lives will emerge. 2018 will see more of that story.
Another animal, this
time a little one, has shown itself. A pine
martin , an house cat sized animal with a bushy tail, a beautiful russet coloured coat, large paws
and a very cute face visits our bird feeders. Somehow he and the birds and
squirrels have worked it all out, cohabiting amongst the snowy nooks and crannies.
My almost last entry of
2017 memorables is something I observed in the night sky. These freezing cold
nights have been so clear you feel like you could almost touch the stars. On
December 28, 2017 as I was looking up I noticed a very large moondog,( a perfect
circle of light around the moon), which reminded me of how connected we all
are - even to the moon! Moondogs often signal a change in weather and as I finish writing this on January
2, 2018, 70 km winds and -3 temperatures are at the doorstep.
Now for the most
important part of 2017. That is you, dear
readers. Big thanks for all the support and encouragement. You make lake fx
happen as much as I do.
All the best for 2018
and may this year bring you many fine memories.
The Wolf and Caribou Dance
 |
| Jill Legault came face to face with a caribou calf on Michipicoten Island in June of 2011 while volunteering to do research with Braun McLaren of Lakehead University |
Some challenges present
a pack of problems. Even more so when they concern a relatively unknown, remote
island where animals are moving pieces on nature’s chessboard. On Lake
Superior’s Michipicoten Island, a large, healthy wolf pack is moving in on the
territory of the most southern herd of caribou in the world. And without help there
soon could be a checkmate in store for all of them.
 |
| Michipicoten Island is the third largest Island in Lake Superior |
However, just as two radiating
lighthouse beacons on the island shine through the fog, hope still thrives in
some of the folks who know and love the island. They are very aware of the impending
difficulties and are raising ideas that aren’t going away anytime soon. In
phone interviews and emails with the Sault Star, they shared expertise on this
very dangerous predator-prey game. Requested comments from MNRF, Ministry of
Natural Resources and Forestry, are not available.
Brian McLaren,
Associate Professor in the Faculty of Natural Resources Management at Lakehead University,
wrote “We need to opt for a non-lethal wolf response program. Wolf kills and
landfast ice are not routine things but they matter in the long run when the
dice get rolled the wrong way.”
Gord Eason, Wawa
resident and retired MNR biologist, said, “We need to get a few of the caribou
off Michipicoten Island before they are all gone. They are very valuable
animals. We have to step in and be the immigrators.”
Leo LaPiano, Michipicoten First Nation Lands and Resources
Conservation Officer, added, “Something has to be done immediately. The first step
in a longer term goal is getting the caribou protected.”
Christian Schroeder, who has owned a camp on Michipicoten
Island since 2013, is very worried. “It seems to be the thing that is occupying
my mind most of the time now,” he said. “It is my dream that Canadians would
have a discussion about caribou as Americans did about moose.”
Michipicoten Island, the
third largest island in Lake Superior, is its own Provincial Park, under the
umbrella of Lake Superior Provincial Park, with Bob Elliott as Park Superintendent.
The fertile island has volcanic based soil with an abundance of luxurious
vegetation. Thick growth of ground hemlock, moose maple and tag alder make
inland summer travel almost impossible. However, the forest does eventually
open up onto a large sugar maple forest. Several lakes dot the interior.
The closest stretch of shoreline
to this 184 square kilometre wilderness beauty is about 15 km away. In the winter,
ice formation on the lake seldom creates solid enough footing to walk to the island
from the mainland. The usual mammals on the island are snowshoe hares,
muskrats, weasels, foxes and a lot of beaver. In fact, numbers of beaver have
been historically astronomical. In the fall of 1961 there were 730 active
lodges, with an estimated 5800 beaver. By October of 2015, 1300 active lodges
peppered the island. All the luxuriant shrubbery provided them with a bountiful
good life. Before the arrival of the wolves, beavers had free run of the island
which they also shared with the influx of an introduced caribou population. Caribou, or reindeer, which some peoples call them, have
some neat survival tricks. They have large rounded hooves which makes it easier
for them to dig for food and walk on snow. Caribou are excellent swimmers
because their hollow hair makes them buoyant. Plus both male and females carry
antlers. The male drops his rack in late fall after mating season. The males
drop theirs in late fall; a pregnant female carries hers for protection, sometimes
until June.
 |
| A Caribou cow protects her calf |
Caribou were a natural
presence on the island until the 1880s when mining activity and miners depleted
their numbers. But in 1981, someone spotted a mature male caribou on the island.
That’s when the MNR decided to help out that lonely bull. The next year, in
1982, the Ministry of Natural Resources, under the guidance of MNR biologist
Gord Eason, boarded eight caribou - one bull, four
cows, and three female calves - onto a Twin Otter bush plane and flew them to
Michipicoten Island. With no natural predators and tons of great greenery to
eat, the herd survived and thrived.
But there is trouble in
Michipicoten Island’s tough paradise. Today, beaver and caribou are the meat
market for the ancestor of man’s best friend. The
problem started almost four years ago. In 2014, during the Polar Vortex winter,
Lake Superior froze over and an ice bridge formed between the island and the 15
km stretch of water to the closest shore. While we were hunkering down under
duvets and wondering how to pay the next heating bill, three hungry wolves, two
females and one male, caught a whiff of the caribou and crossed the ice to the
island on a unique ice bridge. Thus the Russian proverb proved to be true. As
it states, “The wolf is fed by his feet.”
The crossing
of Lake Superior ice to find food brought an abrupt change to Michipicoten
Island. The wolves have made it their home, a healthy food-rich place to grow
their family connections. Family is everything to wolves. While only the alpha
pair breeds, the rest of the clan works overtime to help raise the litters of
four to seven pups. Even other females will lactate to help with the feeding.
And of course their vocal communications are our beautiful, deep, bone-chilling
mystery. Unless a safe ice bridge forms again, the
wolves, who do not swim in Superior, will be forced to stay on the island.
However, since caribou are so plentiful there, Michipicoten Island will be a
great place to be stranded - for now. But The Audets know better. They have
witnessed the change.
Roger and Mary Audet
have been summer visitors to the Island for over 50 years. “In 1963 we bought a
boat and that was the first time I saw the island,” said Roger in a phone
interview from his home in Wawa. “As soon as I discovered Wawa I discovered
Lake Superior and that was it.”
Today, the Audets own a
piece of their beloved island. They have a cabin in Quebec Harbour, one of the
few sheltered anchorages there. Roger and Mary have watched the caribou
population grow over the years and there is recent written proof of the herd’s
expansion. In his 2012 graduate thesis for Lakehead
University, Benjamin Kuchta wrote that in 1982 there were seven caribou; in
2001 there were 200 and in 2011 there were 680. But Kuchta had written his
study before the wolves found their way over to the Island. The Audets fear
that the caribou herd soon will disappear. At one time caribou were regular
visitors to their camp.
“They were
plentiful,” said Roger. “But there is a big, big difference now. Only the big,
big bulls will be left at the end.”
 |
| A boat docked in Quebec Harbour |
Eason is
worried too. He wants to see some of the caribou moved to Leach Island in Lake
Superior Provincial Park. In
the fall of 1984, a total of seven caribou were moved from the Slate Islands to
Montreal Island - one bull, three cows, two male calves and one female calf. One
of the cows moved over to Leach Island. The caribou lasted until 1994 when the
lake froze and a pack of wolves crossed over on the ice.
In a
prophetic 2011 report Eason wrote, “Don’t wait for the original animals to disappear. Take advantage of
their experience and genetics.”
He added, “Leach and Montreal Islands should be tried
again. Caribou could then move or be moved from these islands to the mainland.”
Another suggested plan is to move the wolves to Isle
Royale on the U.S. side of the border. Isle Royale, the largest island in Lake
Superior, needs wolves to help control Royale’s moose population.
LaPiano encourages the idea of transporting wolves to
Royale.
“What an opportunity for cross border cooperation,” he
said in a phone interview. “I’ve been in touch with the scientists on Isle
Royale. They have expressed interest in receiving the wolves.”
But LaPiano also has deeper concerns. He believes that
the caribou/moose predator situation is part of a bigger problem. “It is
representative of a much larger struggle,” he said. “It is about our
relationship to the planet. We are living in an age of mass extinction. In
order to respond we must open up a much broader conversation. It becomes pretty
depressing if we think of a planet for our children that is hollowed out and
homogeneous.”
 |
| An elusive submissive wolf on Michipicoten Island |
LaPiano credits Schroeder’s steady research and letter
writing campaign for bringing the whole situation to light. “If it wasn’t for
the determination of Christian much of this wouldn’t be happening,” he said.
Schroeder describes himself as a citizen deeply
concerned about the persistence of Lake Superior caribou. He has been doing the
tough work of dealing with bureaucracy. He is very persistent himself.
On March 30 of 2017, using the power of the Environmental
Bill of Rights, he submitted an application to the MNRF asking them to review
the Management Plan for the island. On May 30, 2017, MNRF responded denying
Schroeder’s application. The MNRF letter stated, “The MNRF …has determined that
the public interest does not warrant a review within MNRF ..or the need for a
new policy… creating the Lake Superior Island Caribou Reservation.”
 |
| Caribou graze on Michipicoten Island. |
Undaunted by the rejection, Schroeder then approached
Algoma-Manitoulin-Kapuskasing Member of Parliament Carol Hughes with Michipicoten
Island’s wolf/caribou conundrum. On June 28 Hughes wrote to MNRF Minister
Kathryn McGrarry and Catherine McKenna, Federal Minister of Environment and
Climate Change, asking that both levels of government “ work with U.S.
counterparts to look at the feasibility of having a number of wolves relocated
from Michipicoten & Slate Islands to Isle Royale ”.
On September 7, 2017, McKenna responded. Her letter
stated, “ ..since boreal caribou is a federally-listed species under the Species at Risk Act, the Government of
Canada plays a national leadership role in co-ordinating recovery actions..”.
However McKenna was quick to add, “I understand the
provincial MNRF is developing a range-specific approach to manage that area.”
She went on to
say, “Environment and Climate Change Canada will examine the approach being
taken. In that regard, the federal government will offer support to the
Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry, where appropriate, in making sound
management decisions involving boreal caribou in areas of provincial
jurisdiction in the coastal range. ”
Studies are in the works and more MNRF observations
are planned.
McLaren is disturbed with the lack of real action.
“It breaks my heart really,” he wrote, “that caribou
conservation is such a national issue and yet, in one of the few cases where we
have a simple management response to help rescue them, we hide behind the idea
that we need to do more research. Or if we cannot pull the scientists together
on the same page, then we need to educate ourselves as a whole.”
LaPiano would most definitely agree with that one.
“It might be pretty idealistic and naïve,” he said, “but
if you’re going to dream about alternative realities why not chose one that
makes sense?”
 |
| A male caribou on Michipicoten Island carries a distinctive set of antlers. |
Note : A website courtesy of Johanna Rowe
http://www.wawahistory.com/northern-chronicles-et-alfebruary-26-2011-sault-star-wawa-vs-wolves-call-it-the-nature-of-the-beast
gives an historic perspective on caribou during the last century in the Wawa area.
 |
| Madeline and Laura Bazelot and Hilda Morrison at the Morrison cabin near Lake Superior during the mid 1900s. Note the caribou antlers above the door. |
The Indie Summer
I like books. I like the
way they sit on the shelf and hold promise. I like the little and sometimes big
insights they offer up.
And I’m not alone. A
lot of folks love their reads too. They treasure the cloth bag full of
paperbacks with Heather’s Pick or Canada Reads stickers on the front. Off to
the campground or the camp and for a couple of weeks it’s called read and
relax.
While summer might be
an optimum time to read, I always find the warmer months so busy, so full of
swimming, gardening and long hazy sunsets that I have little time to delve into
a book. But now that the season is changing and the light is leaving quicker
than the leaves, I am more drawn to the lure of turning pages and drifting off with
a tome in my lap.
That being said I must
confess that a particular library book did keep me spellbound all through this particular
summer. “The Story of the Irish Race”, by Seumus MacManus, is more like a
bookend than a book. MacManus wrote the 724 pages soon after World War One because
his encounters during the great conflict made him realize that very few people
in North America knew anything about the history of Ireland. True, his accounts
are biased. However, the amount of knowledge in the footnotes and author notes
is so interesting, so intense and so varied that I often had to re-read certain
passages to grasp the impact of them all.
It was when I started
Chapter 68, The End of O’Connell,
that I found a curious thing that sparked my attention. The first sentence of
the chapter made no sense. It began, “But the movement and the man had an
Indian summer.” Say what! What does the author mean “an Indian summer”! This
was no reference to glorious fall days in Algoma. Instead the terminology meant
that Dan O’Connell, a tired defeated Irishman, returned from a prison term and
found some residual energy to lead a movement towards Ireland’s independence from
Britain one last time. I learned that O’Connell was not successful in changing
the political climate but he did leave an important impression on the people.
The text altered my
understandings. Until reading MacManus I was bound to the thinking that Indian
summer meant warm sunny autumn days - like what’s happening right now.
Yes it is fall. In
fact, we even had a thunderstorm to announce this year’s autumnal equinox. I
recall thunder vibrating the house and an accompanying crack of sheet lightning
turning on this desktop computer. Fall arrived with the traditional bang.
Yes the warm
temperatures continue. Some days it was so hot that trying to work tested all possible
parameters. Even the trees didn’t have the energy to paint their leaves red,
gold and orange. Everything, including the forest, was all washed out.
But the words Indian
summer do have another root. Since MacManus’ book opened curiosity’s door, off
I went to pull another source off the shelf. Time for the Canadian Oxford dictionary, the heavy one,
the one that doubles as a doorstop, the one
with over 1700 pages and a three inch wide spine to come to the rescue. In it I
found the other meaning for Indian summer. Besides being “a period of unusually
dry warm weather sometimes occurring in late autumn” the dictionary states that
it is, “a late period (of life, of an epoch etc.) characterized by comparative
calm.”
This was the AHA moment
I was looking for. Yes, we are in the middle of a quiet period. We are getting
a lull in the action. If Indian summer means a respite, a chance to regroup and
enjoy the accomplishments, the fruit of what has grown, then we can see this
season with less harried eyes.
Mmmm. I think I will
head down to the beach once more and take advantage of this comparative calm. A few days ago there
had been a major blow. After it was over I noticed that the huge rolling waves had
deposited sand onto the pebbles. I’m going to clear a space in that fresh shore
and dig my toes into the last bits of my indie summer to prepare for the season
ahead.
And after next weekend
I will be thankful for more than food and family and good friends. I also will look
forward to what Winter has to write in his new book.
Hide and Peek
Whew folks! The last time I saw this column was August 14th but today I found it again. Thanks for reading my lost and found post.
Oh the joys. Oh the agonies. Oh the ups and downs.
Wouldn’t it be great if day-to-day was as easy as playing hide and seek?
I remember playing that child’s game. Someone,
usually the youngest, usually me, would have to be IT. You’d lean against the
rough bark of the hide and seek tree, the designated “home”, and count to 100
(by ones, if you didn’t cheat). Then everyone laughed and took off to hide or
maybe tag “home” while IT was off on the search. We’d play until dark or until
parents called us in. I think that this simple game was a great preparatory for
life. For aren’t we always dealing with some version of lost and found?
A great place to find things and then decide to
keep them or… maybe not… is the shore of Lake Superior. The other day we
paddled to one of our favourite beaches. The water was calm and we took our
time looking at the landscape, the waterscape, always on the watch for some
hidden “treasure” - be it a beautiful boulder under the water or perhaps a
mother duck skimming along to find fish with her small charges in tow. We
pulled up to the pebbly beach and took in the solitude and the beauty of a Superior
morning. After a sit with a cup of tea on a huge white pine log, we wandered around.
Such fun picking up this and that. A large bright orange fishing buoy. An odd
piece of plywood with a perfect square cut out of it. A dotted conglomerate
rock. Small blue and yellow plastic beach shovels and a bright yellow smiley
turtle for sand castling. The sojourn started me thinking about the dozens and
dozens of “things” that folks find at this time of year.
Then, when I heard about an elaborate plan to
conduct a special underwater search in Superior’s sister, Lake Ontario, I
realized that this lost and found game has real effects on people in real time.
Whether the consequences last a lifetime or a single morning, the intensity,
the adrenalin charge of recovering a lost item or finding a new one is quite
profound.
The Lake Ontario search is of a particular
social/historical significance. In the 1950s, Canada’s CF 105 delta winged
supersonic Avro Arrows were eons ahead of their time. But, for secret reasons,
the then Prime Minister John Diefenbaker ordered the destruction of all 5
prototypes and their blueprint plans. However, humanity being the curious race
that it is, could not let the mystery of the amazing plane stay down in the
drink, especially when model-sized Avro Arrows are sitting on the bottom of
Lake Ontario. “Raise The Arrow” is the attempt to find one or more of these
small prototypes using the “Thunder Fish”, a sonar equipped, remote underwater
vehicle that will map the bottom of Lake Ontario. Imagine the Facebook hoopla if
Thunder Fish finds one of the models!
But thrills also belong to smaller finds. Check
out this cool story.
In July of this year some folks were spending the
night at the Twilight Resort. While landing a rental canoe after a quick
paddle, one of them lost his ring in the lake. Since the traveller had to leave
right away, he offered “a G note” to anyone who could find his precious ring.
Well that spurred on one particular searcher! Cut out the bottom of a plastic
pail. Inset Plexiglas. Take said impromptu underwater viewer and earn 1000
bucks! Voila. The half pound, solid gold, 1” square, diamond and ruby encrusted
and inscribed ring glistened amongst the underwater pebbles and a guy became
$1000 richer.
But not all 2017 Montreal River lost and found
stories are so marvellous. Last month a seasonal resident found what most of us
dread to encounter while walking in the bush - the remains of a human body.
Although OPP have not released any identification or cause of death, the person
who died on that cliff at the far end of a beautiful beach can now rest in
peace. And I would think that the OPP beach fire that helped warm officers who
had to maintain 24 hour protection of the scene, also helped send that poor
person’s soul on to the otherworld.
Sharing stories about lost and found experiences
has got to be a vital part of our human condition, a crucial link to a common
existence. Whether it be a 20 dollar bill waving on the sand rippled bottom of
Lake Superior by Bathtub Island, a family ring that slipped off the finger of
an unwary swimmer, a rusted old rifle jammed under a boulder near the mouth of
the Montreal River or even a child’s pink running shoe buried in the Agawa sand
and dug up a year later by someone else, the retrieval of a lost item, pet or
person has got to be one of the greatest joys of all.
So good luck to Thunder Fish and all the other
searchers. We all can use a hand up once in a while.
Wave As
Waves are everywhere. These
cheery hellos or silent goodbyes are loaded with meaning. Especially when our
arms are waving around to swat the hordes of flies that want to be our close
and personal friends on these wet,
buggy, first few days of summer.
 |
| No waving hello from this friend.. |
At the beginning of
June, before the blackflies were chasing me indoors, I watched a storm blow in
over the lake. The sun cast a brilliant white shine onto the still, shimmering
water but there was a crazy wind to herald the incoming rain. Treetops along
the shore were waving heads of ragtop greenery, bouncing around the sky like
exuberant young people listening to tunes and nodding their heads in time to
the music. Normally a wind like that would have had the lake in an uproar but
instead, the blast of surging air turned the flat lake into a wrinkled silver
sheet with a lacy foam fringe. The freezing cold, extra heavy water was just
too much of a horizontal mountain to move.
However, that colder,
bug-free life as we knew it - is over! The water mountain has lost weight and
the lighter, warmer water now must succumb to the whims of the wind. Last week,
as we watched the heavy fog rolling around, a wind pushing its cotton batten
wisps over the rocky points, I figured the approaching system would only ruffle
the lake just as it had the day before. Ooohh was I mistaken! Within an hour, November
waves were lashing our June shoreline. Raging water was smoothing and clearing
out the beaches. The air, the wet and the roar carried all the marks of a fall
storm. It was a classic Lake Superior move - calm one moment - two metre waves
the next!
But waves do much more
than upset the surface of the water. Waves carry shocks and thoughts and sound and
light. And what would our C150 Canada Day celebrations be without the waving of
our national flag? Indeed waves almost made it onto our nation’s red and white
banner!
The debate over Canada’s
flag design did create waves of discontent. Everyone, of course, wanted a say. In
fact, England’s King George V even got into it. In 1921 he designated red and
white as the official colours for our flag. But it was Lester B. Pearson’s WW1
experience that probably was the biggest influence. In 1914, when he was
serving overseas, he noticed that almost every Canadian battalion had the red
maple leaf as part of its insignia. Pearson vowed that if he returned home he
would somehow try to get the red maple leaf on the Canadian flag.
So, on June 15, 1964,
Lester B Pearson presented his idea for a new flag. Nicknamed the Pearson Pennant,
the design featured three red maple leaves on a white background with vertical
blue sections on the sides. The waves represented Canada’s motto, “from sea to
sea.” But those blue squiggly lines could have been the result of a suggestion
from the famous Group of Seven/WW1 artist A.Y.Jackson. In 1914, before Jackson
enlisted, this famous Group of Seven/WW1 artist made a trip to Algonquin Park
with Tom Thomson. There, he painted his classic work “The Red Maple.” Almost 50
years later, the memories of that camping trip inspired Jackson to design a new
Canadian flag. On a piece of cardboard (which he almost threw out - he used the
back of it for phone numbers!) he painted three maple leaves between horizontal
wavy blue lines on the top and the bottom. The lines represented the rivers
that unite Canada. Although our present flag pattern lacks the waves and bears
only one leaf, there is little doubt that Jackson’s flag submission to Pearson
in a letter dated June 10, 1964, encouraged the Algoma MP and Prime Minister to
complete his personal
campaign promise to give Canada a new flag.
 |
| A.Y.Jackson's flag design |
During the 1760s, a
Sioux leader known as Wabasha or Chief Red Leaf carried a red maple leaf as his
symbol. In 1782, according to National Archive documents, he was made a
brigadier general of provincial militia in the British army. At the time, other
British officers had flags so Wabasha had one made up too. For his banner he
chose a red maple leaf on a white background. Could Wabasha’s flag be the beginning
of the idea?
A look into the past is
known to ruffle up other waters with waves of nostalgia. But those ones can give
us energy, stir us into action and encourage us to search the old haunts.
Summer is a good time for that. Seek campsites, find renewal in beaches and sit
by an open fire to stare at the stars. That’s wonderful fuel for winter dreams.
With that in mind, I
think I’ll take a summer time cue from the light waves. Their vibrations are giving
sky and water so many vibrant hues; indeed, they are their own flag. And even
if the fog wisps eat up the colour, that’s OK. Better that than a heat wave.
