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~ For people who are passionate about respecting the earth, walking in nature, observing wildlife, local diet, making do, repurposing, organic gardening, foraging for wild plants and fungi, natural health, scrumptious healthy cooking, renovations, DIY, crafting, raising children simply and mindfully, taking time for stillness, and living in harmony with the seasons.

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Category Archives: lake living

Worm Moon

18 Friday Mar 2022

Posted by Delena Rose in babe and child, bellybabechild, Chayton, lake living, Worms

≈ 2 Comments

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childhood, creative writing, moon, worm moon, Worms

A Discovery of Worms

            As a young child my time in the city was often spent in lower income housing, moving to a new home almost every year. When I was five, we lived in a townhouse on a busy street just a short distance from a power substation. There were no parks in our neighborhood but my younger brother and I soon discovered the hedges that were planted all along the brick wall that surrounded the substation. Ignoring the tower and the thick buzzing cables, we would find the small opening and disappear behind the hedges, crawling on our hands and knees along the entire length of the wall. This was our own private piece of nature; a secret world that no one else seemed to know existed. 

On one visit, it had rained for a few days and we were thrilled to discover a large number of earthworms near the surface of the dirt behind the hedges. We had never seen so many worms together in one place and were both delighted and fascinated. I found an old margarine tub in a pile of garbage nearby and together we filled it with worms. We carefully carried our treasures home, intending to keep them as pets. When we arrived at the front door we proudly presented the margarine tub to our mother who looked at the worms with disgust. Then seeing our filthy hands and clothing, she ordered us straight upstairs to the bathtub. She made us leave our worms outside on the doorstep while we bathed and later, when we snuck out to retrieve them, they were gone. I remember crying and feeling that I had lost something precious. 

Thirty-five years passed. It was my second year living here at the cabin and I had just finished writing my Masters thesis and was looking for a fulltime job. This was not by choice; I needed to pay my mortgage. I found a temporary position with the Government of Alberta (with the Ministry of Education, Department of First Nations, Metis and Inuit Education—perfect as my graduate degree was in Educational Policy Studies specializing in Indigenous Peoples’ Education.) Unfortunately the office was located in the city and required an hour and a half commute each way. I promised myself that this was just a temporary situation until I found something closer to home. In the meantime, it meant waking up at five o’clock every weekday morning to walk my dog, dress, make a smoothie, and leave home by six in order to be at work by seven-thirty. It also meant going to bed by 8 pm every evening.

My body soon became accustomed to my new schedule and I grew to love those early walks in the woods behind the cabin. At this strange in-between hour it would still be dark when Lucy and I left home. As we walked, the sun would slowly peek up over the horizon and by the time we arrived home it would be daylight. On clear days, this early light was often deep yellow in color, giving the morning an otherworldly quality. There were different smells at this early hour as well: crisscrossing highways of scent trails made up of animal musk and fresh scat overlaying the damp earth. Every morning I looked forward to being greeted by the hawk who would wait until we were directly under his tree before calling out to us and then flying away. There were many other magical moments and chance encounters to look forward to: fleeting glimpses of deer and moose, finding new mushrooms or plants I had never seen before, eating small handfuls of ripe berries with their burst of intense flavor, and sipping tiny cups of morning dew offered by curled leaves lying directly on my path.

One morning, I experienced yet another unexpected magical moment. Lucy and I had just arrived back home from our walk. It was warm and the ground was still moist with dew. I was a short distance from my back door when I suddenly felt a presence, or more specifically, like I was in the presence of many. I had felt this sensation once before while living in Inuvik, Northwest Territories. On that occasion, I was walking behind the government buildings in the 24-hour darkness of winter when I suddenly felt like I was not alone. I looked up and saw that I was surrounded by hundreds of huge ravens roosting on the warm pipes that lined the back and sides of these buildings. It was an incredible experience, and now here I was again twenty years later in my own backyard in broad daylight feeling that same presence again. I instinctively looked up but saw nothing but sky and tree canopy. I looked around me but no one was there. I finally looked down at my feet and was amazed to see that all around me on the surface of the ground were hundreds (maybe thousands?) of huge dew worms! They were all mating, paired together in their 69 positions. I held my breath and remained very still, not wanting them to suddenly disappear but they didn’t seem to be too concerned by the presence of this human. I watched them for at least ten minutes when I decided that I just had to go and get my camera to document this experience. When I returned a few minutes later, the worms had all disappeared without a trace. I was disappointed but still deeply moved by the experience. What a privilege to be given a glimpse of something usually hidden from human—and early bird—observers! I had so many questions: Do earthworms always mate above ground? Do they always mate in large groups like this or was this coincidental? Did they mate nightly, weekly, monthly, or annually? How did all of the worms know exactly when to come up to the surface to mate? Was it timed by the Moon or was there some kind of communication among the worms? 

I realized how little I knew about earthworms but the fascination of my five-year-old self had been reawakened and I now carried these questions inside of me like a margarine tub full of treasure. All I needed now was an opportunity to do a bit of research and to spend more time with worms, observing and learning from them. I did not have to wait long. A year and a half later I gave birth to a child: a little boy who loved nothing more than to play in the dirt, searching for worms.

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A brief history of our cabin—built by Gerald and Miriam Hutchinson, and its’ unique relationship to Rundle Mission on Pigeon Lake, Alberta

06 Thursday Jan 2022

Posted by Delena Rose in lake living, local events, Pigeon Lake

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Alberta, cabinorganic, Gerald Hutchinson, Mission Beach, Pigeon Lake, Rundle Mission

I remember the very first time I visited this cabin. It was mid-August 2010. I had recently left my old life in the city behind and was now in search of a new home “in the bush.” I spent many days searching, driving down quiet country roads off the beaten path just waiting for that special gut feeling when I’d know that I had found it. I had explained to a realtor that I was looking for a secluded property surrounded by wilderness and was annoyed with him when he announced that he was showing me yet another cabin on Pigeon Lake. The last time we were out here he had shown me a tiny clapboard cabin on a property the size of a postage stamp with neighbors just a few feet away on both sides. Oh yes, and an asking price that was double my budget. I reminded him that I was not looking for a lake property and that Pigeon Lake was far too expensive for me.

“This one is different.” He replied as he drove us toward the lake.  “It’s a special property. You have to at least take a look.”

We pulled up to a large pan-abode cedar cabin with a huge stone chimney. It was beautiful but my eyes were drawn to the woods beyond it. I got out of the realtor’s car and the first words out of my mouth were, “Show me the land.”

The owner, Terry, was there and I was happy that he was available to answer all of my many questions. As we walked through the property and cabin he told story after story of the local history here and the significance of this special place.

In the 1940s the Freiman’s owned and operated a mill here and many homes built in the city of Leduc (40 minutes away) were built with lumber from this very mill.

But here is where the stories got really interesting. Forty years ago, Reverend Dr. Gerald Hutchinson and his wife, Miriam, retired, bought this land from the Freiman’s, and built this cabin here. Hutchinson had worked in the area as a United Minister since 1949. Being of a deeply curious nature, he had asked the simple question, “Why is this area called Mission Beach?” No one around here really knew the full story and so he spent the next fifty years of his life researching the early contact between the local Aboriginal peoples and Protestant missionaries.

He was particularly interested in Reverend Robert Rundle, chaplain to the Hudson’s Bay Company at Fort Edmonton. Rundle started a mission here with the First Nations people of this area in 1840. Having lived in Banff when I was younger, I was familiar with the famous and picturesque Mount Rundle and was surprised that a man who had had a mountain named after him in the Rockies had also spent time working with Aboriginal peoples, helping them farm the land, right here on the shore of Pigeon Lake. 

For Rundle the good news was showing somebody that they could plant seeds and grow food. He longed for a place to do this. He couldn’t get permission to proceed with that plan because of tensions developing beween James Evans, who was Rundle’s superintendent, and the Company. And as long as Evans was involved, little else would happen in terms of missions. It was only after Evans died in 1846 that the Company would say”okay” [to a mission outside of Company houses]. They sent an assistant out to work with Rundle and in turn, Rundle chose this place to begin the practice of agriculture in this region.

~Gerald Hutchinson, A Mission on Grey Wooded Soil

Very little was known about Rundle and so Hutchinson knocked on doors speaking with local peoples. Then he and Miriam travelled to England and Australia gathering fragments and piecing together the stories and history of Rundle and the time he spent here on Pigeon Lake. He wrote and published three books on this findings, including The Rundle Journals, 1977; The Meeting Place, 1990; and A Mission on Wooded Soil, 2009.

In 1956, he established the Rundle’s Mission Society and two years later, the Rundle’s Mission Lodge was built just a few minutes’ walk up the road from here. In 1965, the Mission was formally recognized as a National Historical Monument. 

In his university days, Hutchinson had studied agriculture at Olds College. Having grown up on a farm in Duhamel, Alberta, he had a lifelong passion for the grey wooded soil of this area as well as a deep desire to help the farmers and Aboriginal peoples who lived on this land. Gerald and Miriam lived here in this cabin for thirty years until Miriam needed to be closer to the city for medical reasons. They sold this property to Terry who was a close friend and board member at the Rundle Mission Society. He and his family had owned it for ten years but were now moving west and wanting to sell it to the right person.

The property for sale was only 1.7 acres but it was backing onto 150 acres of protected land (220 acres in total if you count land across a highway), which were donated by Gerald and Miriam to the Conservancy of Canada.

As we continued to walk the land and tour the cabin things just felt right. I loved everything about this place, the ramshackle greenhouse made of reclaimed window panes, the huge slabs of stone and petrified wood that Rev. Hutchinson had singlehandedly hauled back from Jasper on a homemade wooden trailer behind his Volkswagen Beetle, the botanical fossils in the grand fireplace, and all of the other interesting rocks that he left behind here. I loved the eleven huge spruce trees (I call them “Grandmothers and Grandfathers”) who stand in a protective line behind the cabin (Miriam made Terry promise that he would never cut those down) and the way that the property was so interesting with its sloped land and the absence of any straight lines. I love the way the property was edged by two small canyons and surrounded on three sides by the protected land and the lake on the other side (across the road and behind some trees).  

As Terry and I talked, I shared my Metis background, that I also was a writer, educator, and gardener; and that I also had a deep love of the land. Terry was warm and friendly but as I was leaving he let me know that his asking price was firm and that he could not go a penny less. My best possible offer was considerably lower and I was amazed when it was accepted! Terry told me later that he knew I was “the one” the moment I got out of the car and said, “Show me the land.” He really could not imagine selling Gerry’s cabin and land to someone who was just looking for a recreational lake property and said that he had actually turned down a few offers already. After spending time with me he knew that I would love Gerry and Miriam’s cabin and land as much as they did and that I would take very good care of it. He also thought it was right that after all of the work Gerry had done with Aboriginal peoples that this place would now be owned by a Metis woman who could appreciate the scope and significance of Gerry’s work.

Six weeks later, on September 30th, I finally took possession of the cabin and arrived in the late afternoon with the key and a U-Haul truck full of my possessions. The sun was shining brightly and it was as hot as a summer day despite being early Autumn. The sky was a vivid blue and the trees had all gone bright yellow and orange. A breeze was teasing the leaves out of the trees and they fell like a gentle, swirling rain. I sat alone on the front deck of this beautiful cabin watching the indescribable beauty of the falling leaves for a long time. The beauty of surrender, letting go…  I realized that I was in a mild state of shock and not fully able to understand how it was possible that I was even sitting here… That after waiting for years—decades—in the city that this gorgeous cabin and land were my new home… 

As I continued to sit and marvel at the beauty of the falling leaves the sun began to sink lower in the sky. Suddenly the light shifted and everything was now bathed in a rich golden light. The sky was now golden, my bare arms and legs looked golden, I am sure that my red hair must have looked like it was on fire, and the leaves that continued to fall and swirl were also pure gold. A few landed on me and I did not brush them away, but instead, completely surrendered to the medicine and magic of this place. 

I spent that first night sleeping on an air mattress in the living room. When I awoke I opened the living room curtains and was amazed to see a huge Great Horned Owl sitting on the arbor about 15 feet away. I held my breath as I watched it for a few minutes, then it swooped down to the base of a large apple tree where it effortlessly caught a mouse and then flew away. A few days later I saw the owl again in the back yard. 

A year later, I had the honour of having Gerry, his son, Ken, and Ken’s late wife, Jean, over for a visit here. We also attended his huge 100th birthday party at the Mission where he gave a delightful speech and received a plaque from the Queen. 

Rev. Dr. Gerald Hutchinson passed away a year later on April 14, 2015 (Miriam passed away in 2010 at 94 years of age). Gerry and Miriam’s ashes were mingled and their gravestone in Fisherton Community Cemetery located behind Rundle Mission reads, Together forever in the land they loved. 

What you may not know, is that a small portion of their ashes were reserved and sprinkled under a patch of wild blueberries at the edge of this property by their three children, Ken, Beth and Rob. Nowhere on earth will you find blueberries that taste quite like this. They are shockingly sweet, grow in wooded soil, and belong to this land.

This is my tenth year of living in this cabin and I never forget that I am living in a very special place with a very special story. Although I am 50 years old now the stories of this place never grow old. My son (who also attended Gerald’s 100th birthday party as a baby) is eight years old and he loves living here. He can show you on a globe the exact location of Pigeon Lake, Alberta (he once claimed he could see our cabin on the globe). As he grows, I tell him the story of two very special people, Gerald and Miriam Hutchinson, and how they dedicated their lives to telling the story of this area of Pigeon Lake, our tiny spot on the globe, known as Mission Beach.

Click here for more information on Rundle Mission on Pigeon Lake, Alberta.

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learning to skate on the lake

16 Tuesday Jan 2018

Posted by Delena Rose in family, lake living, more about us, Pigeon Lake, winter fun

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boy skating, ice, lake ice, learning to skate, skating on ice, skating on lake ice, sled on ice

IMG_0680.jpg

In case you missed this post, click here to read it on red feather smooth stone.

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an afternoon on the water

05 Monday Sep 2011

Posted by Delena Rose in cabin living, lake living, Pigeon Lake

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

1959, boat, boat ride, Glass Slipper, Marlin Marine, on the lake, Pigeon Lake

Although I have lived here at Pigeon Lake for over 11 months, I have to admit that until last Friday, I had only been on the water twice. Both of these boat rides were in a canoe, which was fun, but didn’t get me very far as Lucy is no help at all with the paddling! I am very fortunate to be surrounded by great neighbors who keep an eye on me, help me out when I need it, and give me sound advice on some of my projects. On Friday, I was invited out for an end of season boat ride with my newest friends who happen to live just down the road.

It was a perfect end-of-summer day. Blue skies, warm weather and reasonably calm water…

As you may have guessed by now, the coolest part of the boat ride was the BOAT. This work of art is a 1959 Glass Slipper by Marlin Marine. My neighbor Brad, and his son Mitch, collect and restore boats (among other cool hobbies). Believe it or not, this boat only only took them 8 months to restore from start to finish! Everything had to be redone: the detailing, upholstery, paint finish, even the engine is original and was totally rebuilt.

This is not their first boat project and they are now currently working on a new boat. For those of you who are interested in the boats and the restoring process, Brad is planning on getting a blog set up soon and when it is up and running, I will provide a link to it. There are so many interesting details behind this model’s design and history and Brad’s blog will be a fun and informative resource.

Brad and Mitch also custom-build the beautifully matching trailers that pull the boats.

It was a great afternoon! What a special treat: enjoying being on the water with my new friends, great weather, viewing other cabins around the lake, stopping for ice cream, hearing lots of stories, and feeling like I had traveled back in time to 1959 riding in a brand new Glass Slipper…

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