Cooling air breathes life into all who rest by her shores. Waves ripples and crest in a primordial rhythm that sculpts red sands into serpentine sketches. Hermit crabs scuttle and play as they seek sustenance in tidal pools that warm under the afternoon sun. A trio of Spruce frame a far shore brushed with reds and greens, as flecks of white and wheat confirm the presence of others. My spirit is refreshed and enlightened by ocean breezes.
Back to the Artwork pageCooling air breathes life into all who rest by her shores. Waves ripples and crest in a primordial rhythm that sculpts red sands into serpentine sketches. Hermit crabs scuttle and play as they seek sustenance in tidal pools that warm under the afternoon sun. A trio of Spruce frame a far shore brushed with reds and greens, as flecks of white and wheat confirm the presence of others. My spirit is refreshed and enlightened by ocean breezes.
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The sky is painted with crimson brush strokes, as the winds of haste fade to calm. Take pause from tasks that hinder your soul, and reflect on your growth and achievements. Know you have made a difference in the world in quiet and subtle ways. In ways that are hidden in the warm mist far from turmoil of the surface waves. Be still and absorb the rejuvenating spirit of sunset breezes.
Look closely through the morning mist, for a presence looms over this unspoiled land. Gentle movements betray this majestic giant as he steps with nonchalant intentions. The shroud grows thicker, and visions fade with the realization that you have witnessed a silent spirit.
A man weaves tales of this land through poetry and song. Senses are awakened by images of past glory, as well as those of immeasurable pain. Challenges are whispered, to all who will listen, from frail limbs and foreboding eyes. Chanie Wenjack’s secret path jolts us into uncomfortable realizations of historical disconnects, and untold misery on the tip of a Raven’s wing. Pearls of wisdom, spoken by a sister, seek a different world through truth and reconciliation. We are all connected to someone, as Gord is to Chanie. Follow the examples of those who came before us, and seek the strength to facilitate change. Let us dance for healing under the moonlight on ashes of love. All is possible with the promise and power of courage.
I hear the world differently than you. Visual cues present themselves, and guide me in ways unknown to most. I hear rustling leaves through oscillating shimmer, as they dance to an East wind’s command. The splash of a Northern Pike delights me, as ripples radiate then fade to still waters. A loon’s crimson eyes rise and fall in royal splendour, as its lonely call brushes my soul. Night falls as ashen shadows and azure skies cloak reflective silence. All who bear witness unite in my world. I am not alone in the presence of the night birch.
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