A Time for Writing – This Autumn of Mine
I have never been a summer season writer. Even Canadian artist Tom Thomson wasn’t particularly interested in painting the green Algonquin landscape in June and July…..preferring instead the stark, beautiful contrasts of autumn, winter and early spring. As readers are likely aware, I have spent quite a bit of time recently researching the death of Thomson back in July 1917; it is a cumulative life-long project I think now because it dates back to the mid 1990’s and I’m even more enthused about the investigation now than I was five and ten years ago. It’s usually the opposite for me, and that after a project has been successfully published, I’d rather leave it for the rest of time. This is because I never do any full scale research with an eventual published outcome, than I don’t immerse totally in the subject. I haven’t had one day in the past fifteen odd years when Thomson hasn’t been on my mind, even if only as a passing reference, when for example I see a particularly striking autumn scene…..a windblown pine reaching like an arm, over the rolling whitecaps of a storm-swept bay…..maybe a brightly colored hardwood canopy bathed in brilliant sunlight. I’ll wonder to myself how Thomson might have interpreted the scene onto his paintboard.
I have always, at least in spirit, wandered away after the summer season complacency, into the mindful illustration of Thoreau at Walden Pond, discovering as a matter of some ecstasy that there is an unending source of inspiration standing here on this brink above the neighborhood bog, looking down at this life-filled lowland…..and being impressed routinely to write about life at its root; truth at its source, passion generating exploration, discovery spawning revelation. I could stand here all day watching out over this remarkable spot where old crows cackle and squirrels chatter, wise owls hoot and mice scurry, as pen scratches upon paper reflecting with some poignancy the writer’s latest proclamation. “This is life….this is freedom….I am home!”
After a rather profound period this past summer season, to save this Bog from the developer’s chainsaw, it has been a very emotional recovery……to have won our fight yet realize just how close we came to losing this amazing urban wetland…..this part of natural Muskoka that was nearly sold off to accommodate yet more residential development in a town being strangled by speculators putting profit above all else. I do not take one moment for granted here now…..and cherish the opportunity for at least one more year, and hopefully more after that, of watching from these woods as life abounds and changes in the glory of the seasons. I told my wife honestly that I might well die of injuries sustained, blocking that chainsaw blade from taking one stick off this small wetland paradise…..and she knew I was serious. From this vantage point, in the midst of this Bogland now, saved by our concerned citizens at large……and the protest raised throughout Muskoka on its behalf, I would like to dedicate the coming entries this fall-winter season, on this Blog-site, to this most impressive, beautiful place on earth…..its modesty is its beauty. I want you to know how important it is to recognize and conserve these wild places, and how to fight to conserve these places in your communities. You can get an idea what it meant for us trying to preserve The Bog, here in Gravenhurst, by clicking onto our blog-site, for a beginning to end adventure. It was the most difficult projects I’ve ever worked on but one of the most satisfying. I think the fact I had Tom Thomson on my mind constantly through the process was certainly helpful and inspirational when conservancy seemed most threatened.
After a recovery hiatus and a catch-up period with other “old book business” chores and writing projects that had been delayed because of our protest to protect The Bog, I can now finally devote time to this blog-site. Thanks for joining me. There’s much more to come.
I have never been a summer season writer. Even Canadian artist Tom Thomson wasn’t particularly interested in painting the green Algonquin landscape in June and July…..preferring instead the stark, beautiful contrasts of autumn, winter and early spring. As readers are likely aware, I have spent quite a bit of time recently researching the death of Thomson back in July 1917; it is a cumulative life-long project I think now because it dates back to the mid 1990’s and I’m even more enthused about the investigation now than I was five and ten years ago. It’s usually the opposite for me, and that after a project has been successfully published, I’d rather leave it for the rest of time. This is because I never do any full scale research with an eventual published outcome, than I don’t immerse totally in the subject. I haven’t had one day in the past fifteen odd years when Thomson hasn’t been on my mind, even if only as a passing reference, when for example I see a particularly striking autumn scene…..a windblown pine reaching like an arm, over the rolling whitecaps of a storm-swept bay…..maybe a brightly colored hardwood canopy bathed in brilliant sunlight. I’ll wonder to myself how Thomson might have interpreted the scene onto his paintboard.
I have always, at least in spirit, wandered away after the summer season complacency, into the mindful illustration of Thoreau at Walden Pond, discovering as a matter of some ecstasy that there is an unending source of inspiration standing here on this brink above the neighborhood bog, looking down at this life-filled lowland…..and being impressed routinely to write about life at its root; truth at its source, passion generating exploration, discovery spawning revelation. I could stand here all day watching out over this remarkable spot where old crows cackle and squirrels chatter, wise owls hoot and mice scurry, as pen scratches upon paper reflecting with some poignancy the writer’s latest proclamation. “This is life….this is freedom….I am home!”
After a rather profound period this past summer season, to save this Bog from the developer’s chainsaw, it has been a very emotional recovery……to have won our fight yet realize just how close we came to losing this amazing urban wetland…..this part of natural Muskoka that was nearly sold off to accommodate yet more residential development in a town being strangled by speculators putting profit above all else. I do not take one moment for granted here now…..and cherish the opportunity for at least one more year, and hopefully more after that, of watching from these woods as life abounds and changes in the glory of the seasons. I told my wife honestly that I might well die of injuries sustained, blocking that chainsaw blade from taking one stick off this small wetland paradise…..and she knew I was serious. From this vantage point, in the midst of this Bogland now, saved by our concerned citizens at large……and the protest raised throughout Muskoka on its behalf, I would like to dedicate the coming entries this fall-winter season, on this Blog-site, to this most impressive, beautiful place on earth…..its modesty is its beauty. I want you to know how important it is to recognize and conserve these wild places, and how to fight to conserve these places in your communities. You can get an idea what it meant for us trying to preserve The Bog, here in Gravenhurst, by clicking onto our blog-site, for a beginning to end adventure. It was the most difficult projects I’ve ever worked on but one of the most satisfying. I think the fact I had Tom Thomson on my mind constantly through the process was certainly helpful and inspirational when conservancy seemed most threatened.
After a recovery hiatus and a catch-up period with other “old book business” chores and writing projects that had been delayed because of our protest to protect The Bog, I can now finally devote time to this blog-site. Thanks for joining me. There’s much more to come.
Please visit my other blog at savethebog.blogpspot.com
