Sunday, 23 November 2008
round the corner
I live catty-corner to the local fire hall. Convenient if I ever need them. On the far corner of their property, way back at the edge of the meadow, stands a tall stand of logs, built as if someone put up one wall for a log cabin and then abandoned the project. It's left over from when the area was known for their lumberjack games (this area being known for both logging and lumber-jacking.) Specifically, the wall was used for axe throws.
I took Cass over there before the snow came and he was wide-eyed and transported, quickly sucked back to a time when men proved what they could do by simple physical acts, before insurance coverages and dwindling fair crowds doomed the games. There are still hatchet marks in the greying wood, plenty left to satisfy him that this was another dangerous and exciting thing that he'd missed by being born too late.
And behind the wall? A rock. A giant rock, sitting like a giants dropped toy in the piney woods. The woods and fields around here are littered with these huge stones, remnants of glacial activity in the area many, many years ago.
He was torn. Which should he want to climb first?
Then, a little deeper into the forest - another boulder! And this time, a fallen pine made a perfect ladder.
All this, and the river not fifty feet away.
Nova Scotia is magical, and a good place to raise a child who dreams are of yesteryear.
At least it was beautiful before all this snow came. Harrumph!