Christmas in Muskoka; For The Love Of Our Region

CHRISTMAS IN MUSKOKA - WHAT DO WE FIND SO INSPIRATIONAL ABOUT THIS REGION?

WHAT DO WE REALLY WANT FROM OUR RESIDENCY IN MUSKOKA?


     BEYOND THE CRITICAL REALITY, THAT AMERICAN POET ROBERT FROST, PURPOSELY IMBEDDED MANY MEANINGS, AND PERSONAL POINTS OF VIEW, IN HIS WRITING, WITH A SUBTLE BUT SHARP POINT OF POLITICS, PROTRUDING HERE AND THERE, I WILL NEVER GO BEYOND THE FACE VALUE OF MY FAVORITE POEM, "STOPPING BY THE WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING." I WAS ABLE TO RECITE THE WHOLE PIECE, IN PUBLIC SCHOOL ENGLISH CLASS; AND TO THIS DAY, IT IS ENTRUSTED TO MY SOUL FOR SAFE KEEPING. THE POET, IF HE WAS STILL ALIVE, MIGHT BE HORRIFIED THAT I HAVE TAKEN IT AT ITS WORD, HAPPY WITH ITS FACE VALUE, BUT IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN, THE POET LOSES THE RIGHT TO THAT INSISTENCE. I WILL NOT BE IMPOSED UPON. I LIKE THE POEM THE WAY IT IS, THE WAY IT READS, AND HOW CHARMING IT IS TO HEAR, RECITED, IN THE VOICE OF AN ACCOMPLISHED STORY-TELLER. IN THIS CASE, I WILL NEVER OVER ANALYZE, WHAT THIS POEM MADE ME THINK ABOUT, AND IMAGINE, ON MY OWN TREKS THROUGH THE SNOWY WOODS, BY SLED, ON SKIS, AND BY STEP, ONE DETERMINED STRIDE AFTER THE OTHER, ALONG WELL TRAVELLED PATHWAYS. I HAVE LONG RELATED THE POEM TO THE MUSKOKA DISTRICT, BECAUSE IT WAS IN AT BRACEBRIDGE PUBLIC SCHOOL, THAT I FIRST HEARD IT RECITED BY OUR TEACHER. IT WASN'T WRITTEN ABOUT MUSKOKA, OBVIOUSLY, BUT IT HAS ALWAYS FIT MY INTERESTS, AS A TIRELESS VOYEAUR OF SUCH PLACES; AND FOREVER CELEBRANT, OF ALL THOSE GENTLE, QUIET MOMENTS AMIDST THIS HEALING PLACE.
    THE AFTERNOON MIX OF SNOW AND RAIN, AND THE TEMPERATURE, HOVERING AROUND THE FREEZING MARK, HAS DRAMATICALLY CHANGED THE MOOD OF THE NOVEMBER DAY. THERE IS A FINE VEIL OF MIST CLOAKING DOWN, OVER THE HOLLOW OF THE BOG; YET THE SCENE IS QUITE VIBRANT BECAUSE OF THE CONSTANT FALLING OF THOSE NOW HEAVY CLUMPS OF SNOW, THAT HAD GATHERED ON OUTSTRETCHED PINE BOUGHS, FROM THE EARLIER WASH-OVER FROM SQUALLS OFF THE LAKE. I CAN HEAR THE RUN-OFF WATER, FLOWING UNDER THE ICE, TOWARD THE STORM SEWER, THAT I STILL HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO LOCATE, UNDER THE LARGE SNOWBANK SCULPTED THIS PAST WEEK BY THE TOWN PLOW. IF YOU LISTEN CAREFULLY, YOU CAN HEAR THE SNOW CAVING IN UPON ITSELF, AS THE ICE CRYSTALS BREAK DOWN IN THE RAIN; AND WITH THE NEW WEIGHT OF ITS CONTENT, COMPACTING IT TO THE GROUND. IT IS A SULLEN SCENE, BECAUSE OF THE LOW LIGHT, AND THE MISTING OVER OF THE STREETSCAPE. THE GROUND IS WITHOUT FROST, SO THE SNOW IS MELTING FROM THE BOTTOM, AS MUCH AS FROM THE TOP DOWN. THERE ARE AT LEAST TWENTY BIRDS DARTING FROM BRANCH TO BRANCH, AWAITING THEIR TURN AT THE FEEDER, MOUNTED ON THE RAILING OF THE FRONT VERANDAH. IT IS A PEACEFUL SCENE, DESPITE THE FACT IT IS DULL AND, SOME MIGHT SAY, AN UNPLEASANT SHADE OF MELANCHOLY.
     IT MIGHT BE ASSUMED THAT I LOVE MUSKOKA MORE DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, THAN I DO FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR. DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, I THINK ALL THE RESPECT AND CELEBRATION OF THIS REGION, BUNCHES UP FOR ME; AND IT JUST OOZES OUT, WHERE IN OTHER SEASONS, IT'S JUST A CONSTANT DRIP. I JUST HOPE IT'S NOT ANNOYING. THE CONFLUENCE OF ALL THE HISTORY, NATURAL HERITAGE, THE SNOWY LANDSCAPE, AND THE NOSTALGIC CHARM OF OUR TOWNS, VILLAGES, HAMLETS, AND CROSSROADS, INSPIRES ME TO TRY AND REPRESENT IT ALL; I SUPPOSE, IN ORDER TO MAKE SURE, THOSE WHO READ THESE TOMES, WILL BE ABLE TO SHARE WITH ME, WHAT OPPORTUNITIES AND VANTAGE POINTS, THEY MIGHT HAVE OTHERWISE MISSED. I HAVE MANY READERS OUTSIDE OF THE DISTRICT, PROVINCE AND COUNTRY, AND I DO FEEL IT INCUMBENT, TO ACT AS SORT OF AMBASSADOR, TO SPREAD THE GOOD WORD YOU MIGHT SAY. I WANT READERS TO KNOW, AS WELL, (IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING IF I'M ON COMMISSION) THAT THERE IS NO PROFIT ATTACHED, TO ANYTHING I WRITE ABOUT THE REGION; SO IF YOU THOUGHT, I WAS SHILL FOR THE LOCAL TOURISM MARKETING AGENCY, OR ANY OF THE LOCAL CHAMBERS OF COMMERCE, WELL, IT'S NOT TRUE. IT'S VERY MUCH THE CASE HOWEVER, THAT I PROMOTE MUSKOKA, AS ONE WOULD RETURN A FAVOR FOR ONE BESTOWED. MUSKOKA HAS GIVEN INSPIRATION TO ME, AND A GOOD LIFE, IN A BEAUTIFUL REGION ON EARTH, AND I OWE IT A DEBT OF RESPECT; AND I SUPPOSE, AS AN OVERVIEW, TO MAKE A GENERAL APPEAL, THAT WE, AS STAKEHOLDER INHABITANTS ESPECIALLY, TAKE A BIGGER ROLE IN ITS ENVIRONMENTAL STEWARDSHIP. EVEN IF THAT MEANS, AT ITS MOST RADICAL RAW END, OPPOSING A RECKLESS DEVELOPMENT THAT, BY ITS CHARACTER, DESTROYS NATURAL RESOURCES FOR THE SAKE OF URBAN SPRAWL AND NOTHING ELSE. I GUESS IT DOES COME TO PASSION, FOR ME, AND THE VERY REAL FEAR THAT THE DISTRICT IS FACING A PRECARIOUS FUTURE, IF AND WHEN, THE ECONOMY DIRECTS A NEW FOCUS AT THE LARGELY RURAL MUNICIPALITY. IT IS GOING TO SURGE AT SOME POINT, AND CONSTITUENTS ARE GOING TO HAVE TO SOUL SEARCH, AS TO THE BENEFITS VERSUS THE COMPROMISES THEY CAN LIVE WITH, IN THE GUISE OF ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT.
    MUNICIPAL COUNCILS SCARE ME, MOST OF ALL, BECAUSE THEY ARE SO HUNGRY TO ATTRACT INVESTMENT, THAT ERRORS IN JUDGEMENT WILL BE MADE IN THE HASTE TO GET BIGGER INVESTMENT. LIKE USING A OUIJIA BOARD; SOMETIMES WHAT YOU ASK FOR, COMES WITH A WHOLE BUNCH OF NEGATIVES ATTACHED. THERE IS NO SIGNIFICANT MUNICIPAL WATCH-DOG, AND I DON'T FEEL THE LOCAL MEDIA HAS THE INTEREST TO PEFORM THIS IMPORTANT TASK, AS IT ONCE DID IN THE REGION. IN THIS REGARD, MAYBE YOU CAN APPRECIATE MY CONCERN. LEFT TO INDIVIDUALS, WITHOUT DEEP POCKET RESOURCES, IT IS A BEHEMOTH TASK, AND QUITE INEFFICIENT, WITHOUT A GUARDIAN MANAGEMENT GROUP. I FEEL, AS NAIVE AS THIS MAY BE, THAT IF I WRITE ABOUT IT REGULARLY, AND IT'S ARCHIVED FOR THE BENEFIT OF A GLOBAL AUDIENCE, AS HAS BEEN ACCOMPLISHED OVER THE PAST THREE YEARS, IT IS, AT THE VERY LEAST, A WIDE AND DEEP SEEDING OF AN IDEA; THAT STEWARDSHIP IS THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE THIS NATURAL JEWEL, FROM THE VESTED INTEREST THAT WISHES TO EXPLOIT ITS RESOURCES. THIS ISN'T AN ANTI-DEVELOPMENT MISSION. RATHER, IT IS AN INITIATIVE, ON MY PART, TO ANTICIPATE THE VERY NEXT MOVE, OF AN ILL-INFORMED COUNCIL, TO COMPROMISE AND DESTROY, WHAT MAKES MUSKOKA SO ENVIRONMENTALLY ALLURING. IT IS AS MUCH, THE RESOURCE OF OUR NUMBER ONE INDUSTRY. IT MAKES SENSE TO LOOK AFTER WHAT WE'VE GOT, THAT IS SECURING OUR LONG SERVING INDUSTRY. RAZING FORESTS AND INFILLING LOWLANDS, AND SPRAWLING IN THE URBAM TRADITION, IS NOT WHAT WILL BEST SERVE TOURISM. NO MATTER WHAT YOU HEAR TO THE CONTRARY, BY SELF SERVING DEVELOPERS, AND ENABLERS, WHO RESIST COUNTERPOINT, BECAUSE IT GETS IN THE WAY OF THEIR IDEA OF A GREAT PARADE.
     A CLOSE FRIEND, CONFIDANT, AND WRITING COLLEAGUE, WHO I HIGHLY RESPECTED IN THE PROFESSION, TOLD ME TO MY FACE, ON ONE WILD NIGHT OF ALCOHOL EXCESS, AT BRACEBRIDGE'S ALBION HOTEL, THAT I COULD NEVER (EVER, EVER) MAKE IT AS A WRITER (SOARING INTO THE BIG LEAGUES OF AUTHORDOM), WHILE LIVING IN MUSKOKA. IT WAS AT A TIME, IN MY EARLY WRITING CAREER, THAT I HAD MOST HUBRIS ABOUT SUCH THINGS, BUT I ALSO UNDERSTOOD HOW FRUSTRATING IT WAS TO WORK IN SUCH A LOW PAYING PROFESSION; AS FAR, FOR EXAMPLE, AS BEING A NEWSPAPER EDITOR / WRITER. I MAY HAVE, IN SOME WAY, CONCURRED WITH MY WRITING COLLEAGUE, KNOWING THE ADVANTAGES OF WORKING FOR THE DAILY PRESS IN THE CITY; BUT SEEING AS I WAS HIS BOSS, AT THE LOCAL RAG, AND HE WAS STILL IN ESSENCE A CUB REPORTER, I REALLY ONLY GOT OFFENDED BY THE IRREVERANCE OF THE MAN, FOR SHOOTING DOWN MY OBVIOUSLY INFLATED DREAM. IT DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH WHETHER HE WAS RIGHT OR WRONG IN HIS ASSERTION. I JUST DIDN'T WANT HIM RAINING ON MY PARADE. I HAD A WHOLE LIFE PLANNED, AND IT INVOLVED WRITING LOCALLY. I TOLD HIM THAT I COULD WRITE A BEST SELLING NOVEL, IF I FELT LIKE IT, WORKING RIGHT OUT OF MY MANITOBA STREET APARTMENT, WHERE WE USED TO GATHER TO SLEEP OFF THE LATEST BENDER. OF COURSE MY ASPIRATIONS WERE A LITTLE OUT OF PROPORTION BACK THEN, BUT I STILL DIDN'T WANT TO HEAR AN UPSTART, TELLING ME I WAS WASTING MY TIME, LIVING AND WORKING IN WHAT I KNEW EVEN THEN, AS A PARADISE ON EARTH. I WAS BORN IN THE CITY, LIVED FOR THE FIRST YEARS OF MY LIFE IN THE CITY, ATTENDED UNIVERSITY IN THE CITY, BUT WHEN I WAS INTRODUCED TO THE HINTERLAND, IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF A LIFE-LONG RELATIONSHIP. I KNEW IT WOULD BE EASIER TO QUIT MY PROFESSION ENTIRELY, THAN TO MOVE AWAY FROM A PLACE THAT GAVE ME SUCH PLEASURE, AND ALWAYS SUCH A DEEP SOURCE OF INSPIRATION TO BE CREATIVE.     SO I PUNCHED MY COLLEAGUE IN THE FACE, AS WE WERE LEAVING THE TAVERN, AND THEN HE HIT ME WITH A RIGHT HOOK, AND THEN A COUPLE OF JABS, TO THE CHOPS, AND THEN WE WRESTLED TO THE GROUND. ALL BECAUSE, IN MY MIND, HE INSULTED THE PLACE I LIVED. NOT REALLY. HE WAS JUST STATING THE OBVIOUS, I SUPPOSE. I HONESTLY THINK, THAT IF HE HAD INFORMED ME, EVER SO GENTLY, I SUCKED AS A WRITER, AND SHOULD BECOME A GOLF PRO, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASIER TO TAKE, THAN BEING TOLD I WAS LIVING IN THE WRONG REGION. MY HEART TOLD ME DIFFERENTLY. I WAS HOME. THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERED TO ME. AS A MATTER OF CONSIDERABLE IRONY, I WAS JUST WRAPPING TODAY'S BLOG UP, WHEN SCOTT MCCLELLAN, THE FELLOW WHO NEARLY BROKE MY JAW THAT NIGHT, SHOWED UP AT THE SHOP STUDIO, COFFEES IN HAND FOR SUZANNE AND I. AYE, A LATENT PEACE OFFERING. BY THE WAY, HE WAS ALSO MY BEST MAN; SO WE CONSIDER HIM FAMILY, AS WELL AS BEING MY PRESS CLUB CRONIE FROM NEWSPAPER DAYS. WE JUST HAVE A MODERN DAY AGREEMENT, YOU SEE. HE WON'T OPINE ABOUT MY WRITING CAREER, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, AND I WON'T MAKE FUN OF HIM FOR LIVING WITH THE KANGAROOS. HE'S VISITING MUSKOKA TO SEE HIS FAMILY, IN DOWNTOWN KILWORTHY, AND HEADING BACK TO AUSTRALIA IN THE NOT TO DISTANT FUTURE. WE DID HAVE A WEE CHAT ABOUT OUR OLD NEWSPAPER CHUM, BRANT SCOTT, WHO WAS THE PIVOT OF THE PRESS CLUB BACK IN THE EARLY 1990'S. BRANT PASSED AWAY EARLIER THIS FALL AND IT WAS A STUNNING BLOW, TO THIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS. WE OFFERED A TOAST TO HIS MEMORY, AND SHARED A FEW STORIES ABOUT HIS WRITING MILESTONES, AND OUR DAYS TRYING TO BE BIG LEAGUE WRITERS WHILE TOILING IN THE MINORS.
 
     FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS, OF DAILY BLOGGING, I'M SURE THAT THESE SENTIMENTS HAVE BEEN DULY, AND EMPHATICALLY RECORDED VIA THESE FEATURE COLUMNS. THIS IS NEVER ACCIDENTAL OR THE "SUBLIMINAL" MAKING ITS WAY TO HARD COPY. I HAVEN'T DISGUISED MY OPINIONS, OR POLITICS, SUCH AS ROBERT FROST MIGHT HAVE, IN HIS DAY. WHAT I HAVE ENJOYED IN THIS REASON, AND A FEW THINGS I HAVEN'T, HAVE BEEN PROFILED WITH CONSIDERABLE INSIGHT. I DON'T EXPECT READERS TO SUPPORT WHAT I'VE WRITTEN, OR SITUATIONS I'VE CRITIQUED, BECAUSE I AM NOT AN EXPERT, AND EVEN IN MY FIELDS OF SPECIALTY, I OFFER BUT ONE OPINION THAT MAY OR MAY NOT BE ACCEPTED BY THE MAJORITY AS FAIR OR EVEN CORRECT. I TRY TO BE SPOT-ON BUT SOMETIMES, YOU SWING AT A CURVE BALL AND MISS. THAT'S THE OLD BALL GAME. I DO WISH TO USE MY OWN EXPERIENCES IN MUSKOKA, AS AN EXAMPLE, OF THE INTERESTING LIFE I'VE ENJOYED IN MUSKOKA. I HAVE BENEFITTED IN SO MANY WAYS, ESPECIALLY IN CREATIVE ENTERPRISE, BY WHAT HINTERLAND CHARACTER, THE HOME DISTRICT OFFERS ME EVERY SINGLE DAY. I WAS STANDING AT THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY, THIS MORNING, HAVING JUST CLEARED AWAY SOME MOUNDS OF SNOW LEFT BY THE PLOW. I HEARD THE TELL-TALE TAPPING AT MY SIDE, AND WHEN I TURNED, THERE ON THE HYDRO POLE, ABOUT TEN FEET UP, WAS A HUGE PILEATED WOODPECKER, TAPPING AWAY FOR ITS DINNER. I HAD THE CHANCE TO STUDY THAT MAGNIFICENT CREATURE FOR ABOUT FIVE MINUTES, BEFORE A LADY WITH A DOG PASSED, AND FRIGHTENED IT AWAY. THIS HAPPENS A LOT. NOT USUALLY THIS CLOSE, BUT COZY ENOUGH TO ENJOY AN INTIMATE MOMENT OR TWO. I ADORE THE OPPORTUNITY TO BE CLOSE TO THESE CREATURES THRIVING IN OUR LAKELAND. KEEP IN MIND, THAT WE ARE NOT RURAL DWELLERS AT BIRCH HOLLOW. WE LIVE IN AN URBAN NEIGHBORHOOD, ONLY A FEW BLOCKS FROM THE MAIN STREET OF OUR TOWN. WE HAVE THE GLORIOUS ADVANTAGE, TO BE SITUATED ON A KNOLL OF HILLSIDE, JUST ABOVE THE WETLAND WE CALL "THE BOG." AND WE HAD TO FIGHT TO KEEP IT, FROM BEING SOLD OFF AS RESIDENTIAL LOTS BY THE TOWN OF GRAVENHURST.
     WE HAVE THE TREMENDOUS ADVANTAGE HERE, TO COME IN REGULAR CONTACT WITH ALL KINDS OF WILDLIFE, AND ESPECIALLY THE DEER, THAT HAVE FOUND THE BOG A WELL APPOINTED ACREAGE TO FEED FROM, AND I SUPPOSE, OUTREACH INTO THE OTHER GREEN BELTS IN THE AREA. WE HAVE ALL KINDS OF INTERESTING CRITTERS, INCLUDING WEASELS, RACCOONS, SQUIRRELS, CHIPMUNKS, RABBITS, THE OCCASIONAL BEAR, MOOSE, WOLF AND CAYOTE. IT'S AN URBAN NEIGHBORHOOD FOR GOSH SAKES. WHEN I LOOK OUT THE WINDOW OF BIRCH HOLLOW, OR VIEW THE BOG FROM OUR FRONT VERANDAH, IT'S LIKE STUDYING A DIORAMA AT A MUSEUM; BUT THIS IS VERY REAL, AND VERY INTERACTIVE. THE BIRDS? UNBELIEVABLE WHAT SPECIES LAND ON OUR FRONT YARD MAPLES. WHAT WILL EVENTUALLY LAND AT THE FEEDER OVER THE COURSE OF THE WINTER MONTHS. I HEAR THE OWLS EVERY NIGHT, AND IN THE WARMER SEASON, THE LOONS. I LIKE THE COUNTY CROWS, WHEN THEY LEAVE MY GARBAGE ALONE. POINT IS, IF YOU LIKE NATURE, AND YOU APPRECIATE HOW IMPORTANT IT IS TO HAVE THIS AMOUNT OF THRIVING WILDLIFE, THEN YOU MUST ALSO APPRECIATE, THAT AS STEWARDS, WE HAVE A HUGE RESPONSIBILITY TO LOOK AFTER THIS DISTRICT. I WILL NEVER LEAVE THE TASK UP TO THE POLITICIANS IN THIS REGION, BECAUSE THEY AREN'T QUALIFIED IN THIS REGARD. THEY MAY SEEM LIKE THEY'RE CONCERNED ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT, BUT THEY ARE SOME OF THE SAME FOLKS WHO WANTED TO INFILL A BOG, AND DISPLACE ALL THE CRITTERS THAT DEPEND ON THIS NATURAL RESOURCE. THE FACT THAT IT IS A FILTERING LOWLAND, FOR RUN-OFF WATER FROM THE URBAN NEIGHBORHOODS OF TOWN, IS ALSO A PRETTY COMPELLING REASON TO CONSERVE THE WETLAND. THE EXPERIENCE, A FEW YEARS AGO, WITH GRAVENHURST TOWN COUNCIL, DEFINED THIS SHORTFALL QUITE POIGNANTLY. WHILE IT IS HARD TO DEFEND ALL WILD PLACES, FROM BEING BULLDOZED, AND DEVELOPED, BECAUSE THAT'S ADMITTEDLY QUITE IMPOSSIBLE IN THIS OR ANY REGION, WE CERTAINLY NEED BETTER EDUCATED STEWARDS, AMONGST US, TO GUARD AGAINST WHAT CAN ONLY BE SEEN AS SENSELESS DESTRUCTION, OF WHAT ALSO SUPPORTS OUR NUMBER ONE INDUSTRY, BEING TOURISM.
     A NEIGHBOR HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, ONCE TOLD A GUEST AT A PARTY HE WAS HOSTING, THAT THE FELLOW NEXT DOOR WAS A WILD-EYED ENVIRONMENTAL ACTIVIST. I SUPPOSE THIS WAS BECAUSE I STOPPED ONE OF HIS YARD WORKERS, FROM DUMPING TRASH IN THE WOODS ACROSS THE ROAD, AND THEN THINKING I WAS A TAD RADICAL, WANTING TO KEEP TREES AND A WETLAND, INSTEAD OF BOLSTERING THE CAUSE OF REAL ESTATE SPECULATION, IF THE PROPERTY HAD BEEN SUBDIVIDED. EVEN IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD WE HAD TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT OF THE RESIDENTS, WHO COULDN'T HAVE CARED LESS ABOUT THE LOWLAND, BUT FORTUNATELY, THE SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT, FOUGHT TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT HARDER, TO MAINTAIN THE PRISTINE CHARACTER OF THE BOG. IF IT HAD GONE TO THE TOWN FOR A COMMUNITY WIDE VOTE, I HAD REASONABLE INTEL THAT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A SIMILAR SHOW OF SUPPORT, BUT A DANGEROUS PERCENTAGE THAT WOULD HAVE VOTED FOR A NEW SUBDIVISION, WHETHER PARADISE WAS PAVED OVER OR NOT.
    I THINK DISTRICT WIDE, THERE ARE CONSTITUENTS FEELING THE SAME WAY; THAT JOBS TRUMP ENVIRONMENTAL CONCERNS. EVEN THOUGH, THE HISTORIAN CAN OFFER A PRETTY COMPELLING COUNTERPOINT, THAT TO DESTROY THE ENVIRONMENT, ALSO KILLS THE TOURISM INDUSTRY THAT HAS KEPT US AFLOAT, AS A REGION, FOR WELL MORE THAN A CENTURY. SO BEING CAVALIER ABOUT THE VALUE OF OUR NATURAL RESOURCES, WOULD BE AN ECONOMIC SUICIDE. INFILLING THE BOG, WOULD HAVE BEEN AS RECKLESS AS IF THEY DECIDED TO SET UP A MANUFACTURING OPERATION ON THE LAKESHORE. WHAT SHOCKED ME, AND STILL DOES, EVERY TIME I LOOK AT THIS GREEN BELT, IS THAT COUNCILLORS WERE WILLING TO LIST IT FOR SALE, WITHOUT EVEN TAKING A TOUR THROUGH THE ACREAGE, TO SEE WHAT INFILLING AND SUBDIVIDING WAS GOING TO KILL. IF AT TIMES, I APPEAR A LITTLE NEGATIVE ABOUT OUR MUNICIPAL REPRESENTATION, THIS IS MY EXAMPLE OF HOW BAD IT CAN GET; HAVING UNTRAINED, UNTUTORED ELECTED OFFICIALS, CALLING THE SHOTS ON ENVIRONMENTAL STEWARDSHIP. IT'S WHY I LET THEM KNOW, VIA THIS BLOG, AND WORD OF MOUTH IN THIS TOWN, THAT I'M WATCHING THEM EVERY DAY, JUST TO MAKE SURE THEY'RE NOT GOING TO TRY SOMETHING SIMILAR. THEY WON'T GET AWAY WITH FAST-TRACKING THINGS, LIKE THEY TRIED WITH THE BOG, AS LONG AS I'M LIVING HERE.
     I AM NOT AN ENVIRONMENTAL ACTIVIST, AND I DON'T BELONG TO GREEN PEACE OR HAVE ANY AFFILIATION, OR MEMBERSHIP, OR LOOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH ANY GROUP THAT WOULD NEST IN TREES, TO STOP A CLEAR CUT, OR TO PROTECT A PARTICULAR STAND OF HERITAGE TREES. I HAVE NEVER BEEN A HARDCORE PROTESTOR OF PIPELINE EXPANSION, AND LIKE MOST CANADIANS, I DRIVE A LOT, AND USE FOSSIL FUEL. I AM A MEAT EATER BUT I DESPISE THE WAY LIVESTOCK IS TREATED PRIOR TO SLAUGHTER. I AM, BY MY OWN ADMISSION, CONTRADICTORY, IN MANY LIFESTYLE WAYS, TO WHAT I MIGHT PROJECT OTHERWISE; ESPECIALLY IN TERMS OF ENVIRONMENTAL PROTECTION. I SUPPORT ENVIRONMENTAL INITIATIVES WORLD WIDE, AND I GET NAUSEOUS WHEN I READ, OR WATCH NEWS REPORTS, ON ENVIRONMENTAL CONTAMINATION; AND LEARN MORE ABOUT INDUSTRIAL EMISSIONS THAT ARE KILLING BIRDS AND CAUSING A DETERIORATION OF AIR AND WATER QUALITY; POISONING THE LANDSCAPE FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS TO COME. MY FAILURE, AND I FEEL BAD ABOUT THIS, IS THAT I AM NOT A FRONT LINE ACTIVIST IN MOST CASES. I DON'T HAVE A LOT OF MONEY TO CONTRIBUTE, AND MY DAYS OF CLIMBING TREES, AND SLEEPING IN THE BRANCHES, TO MAKE A POINT, ARE LONG GONE. I CAN'T LIVE UP TO MY NEIGHBOR'S DESCRIPTION OF ME AS AN ENVIRONMENTAL ACTIVIST, ALTHOUGH I SORT OF APPRECIATE HE THINKS OF ME IN THIS FASHION. YET IN MY OWN WAY, AND WHILE ADMITTEDLY MODEST, AS COMPARED TO THE WORK OF A REAL AND STALWART ENVIRONMENTALIST, IT IS THE BASE REASON, WHY I CONTINUALLY HARP ON THE IMPORTANCE OF ENVIRONMENTAL STEWARDSHIP; AND USE THE BOG, AS AN EXAMPLE OF WHAT WAS SPARED BY NOTHING MORE THAN A MIX OF PASSION FUELING DUE DILIGENCE. IT'S AN EXAMPLE I WANT TO SHARE WITH OTHERS, WHEREVER THEY MIGHT RESIDE, ABOUT THE WAY TO FIGHT TOWN (OR CITY) HALL, AND WIN THE PUBLIC RELATIONS WAR. IT WAS A SHORT WAR, BUT THANKFULLY, WE GOT ENOUGH SUPPORT SENT OUR WAY, TO KILL THE PROJECT BEFORE IT EVEN GOT FULLY SEEDED.
     I DIDN'T TAKE MY WRITING COLLEAGUE'S ADVICE, AND MOVE AWAY FROM MUSKOKA TO EARN MY FAME AND FORTUNE IN THE WRITING PROFESSION. I'VE NEVER ONCE, FELT I HAD MADE A BAD CHOICE. I HAVE NEVER BELIEVED THAT MY BEING SUCCESSFUL, IN MY CHOSEN PROFESSION, WAS ONLY DEFINED BY EARNINGS, OR HAVING A BYLINE IN A MAJOR INTERNATIONAL PUBLICATION. I HAVE ALSO NEVER PLACED ALL MY EGGS IN ONE BASKET, AND ALWAYS HAD MY INTERESTS IN ANTIQUES TO INFILL, WHERE WRITING SHOWED A SHORTFALL OF INCOME. I HAVE HAD SO MANY BENEFITS FROM LIVING AND WORKING IN MUSKOKA, GOSH, I CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE WHAT I WOULD HAVE LOST IN CREATIVE ENTERPRISE, LIVING SOMEWHERE ELSE FOR ALL THESE YEARS. I ONLY HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE GUITAR PLAYING UPFRONT, IN THE MUSIC SHOP STUDIO, TO KNOW FULL WELL, THAT MY MATE HAD BEEN DEAD WRONG, IN HIS ASSERTION, I COULDN'T MAKE IT AS A WRITER IN MUSKOKA. OUR WHOLE FAMILY HAS BEEN ADVANTAGED LIVING IN THIS BEAUTIFUL, THRIVING LAKELAND, AND NOW ANDREW AND ROBERT, MY TWO MUSICIAN SONS, ARE USING THE SAME SOURCES OF INSPIRATION, TO WRITE AND PERFORM THEIR MUSIC. THE ONE DIFFERENCE, OF WHICH I AM ENORMOUSLY PROUD, IS THAT THEY ARE FROM PIONEER STOCK IN MUSKOKA, THROUGH THEIR MOTHER, SUZANNE'S FAMILY. IT IS WONDERFUL TO KNOW OF THIS HISTORIC CONNECTION, TO A REGION I HAVE INVESTED MOST OF MY LIFE. I HAVE NO REGRET, HAVING REMAINED HERE, EVEN WHEN I WAS OFFERED WRITING JOBS ELSEWHERE. I MAY HAVE LOST THE BOXING MATCH TO MY ESTEEMED WRITER FRIEND, BUT I WON THE MORAL / PHILOSOPHICAL DEBATE, AND DID SUCCEED, WHERE HE SAID, IT WOULD BE AN IMPOSSIBILITY.
     WHEN, THESE DAYS, I WRITE ABOUT CHRISTMAS IN MUSKOKA, IT IS, BELIEVE ME, HEARTFELT. I FIND IT AN AMAZING HINTERLAND, TWELVE MONTHS EACH YEAR, BUT IT IS AT CHRISTMAS-TIME, THAT I FEEL MOST CONNECTED TO THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. IT WAS AT CHRISTMAS, IN 1978, THAT I WAS FIRST FACED WITH THE ISSUE OF "SHOULD I STAY, OR SHOULD I GO." ON THE CUSP OF DECIDING TO LEAVE, TO SEEK EMPLOYMENT ELSEWHERE, I WAS GIVEN A REPORTING JOB AT THE MUSKOKA LAKES-GEORGIAN BAY BEACON, IN MACTIER, AND IT KIND OF SEALED THE DEAL. I WAS STAYING IN MUSKOKA. NO REGRETS. SO EVER SINCE, I RELATE THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, AND NEW YEARS, TO THE TURNING POINT IN A YOUNG LIFE, THAT I SHALL NEVER DIMINISH AS A PERSONAL MILESTONE; ESPECIALLY WHEN TODAY, I LOOK OUT UPON WHAT IS A MOST BASIC LANDSCAPE, TYPICAL OF MUSKOKA, BUT I FIND IT A MUCH MORE ENCHANTED PLACE THAN THE NATURALIST SEES IT, OR THE ARTIST MIGHT PORTRAY IT ON A PAINT BOARD. IT IS THE LOWLAND I STUDY INTENTLY, AND I SUPPOSE, IN MY MIND, THE REWARD FOR HAVING WON THE DEBATE, ABOUT WRITING IN MUSKOKA, BECAUSE AS YOU READ THIS, YOU WILL APPRECIATE I DID PREVAIL. THIS DEBATE, BY THE WAY, HAPPENED IN THE WINTER OF 1982. I'M STILL, AS THEY SAY, A MILLION DOLLARS SHY OF BEING A MILLIONAIRE, BUT HONESTLY, I FEEL MUCH WEALTHIER THAN THIS, AND SO PROUD OF MY REGION OF ONTARIO. I HOPE IT SHOWS.

A Christmas Season Story Dedicated to the Memory of Two Fine Colleagues, John Black and
 Brant Scott

A TRIP INTO THE FUTURE

     It was back in the early 1980's, when Herald-Gazette staff writer, Brant Scott, John Black and I, were the front-liners with Muskoka Publications, in Bracebridge. Each of us contributed to other papers being produced, at the time, courtesy our small print empire, including the Muskoka Advance and the Muskoka Sun. We always seemed to be short of editorial copy and photographs, and in this era for the community press, business was pretty good. We had enough advertisements every week, to provide a lot of white space between ad copy, for the writers and photographers to fill. Sometimes it got pretty crazy trying to come up with enough material to do this, and that's where my old friend John Black, was the white knight of newspaper production. John always had lots of images to choose from, and when the writing staff couldn't fill the paper, we knew a trip to the darkroom would save the day. He was prepared for our shortfalls, having a huge bank of photos to splice in when required. We required it a lot.

     I think it's safe to say (write), that the three bachelors, all gainfully employed, with enough money in the weekly pay packet, to at least pay the rent, with a few coins leftover for food and beverage, were all eager to make more of our respective existences. Each of us knew there was much more to accomplish, and there was no true or lasting satisfaction with anything that had to do with status quo, as it pertained to career. We were always shopping for more lucrative opportunities in our respective fields of interest. Brant was by far, the writer who influenced me the most, and John influenced both of us, because he had so much raw enthusiasm and passion for self-improvement. Always chasing after the elusive holy grail of photographs, that would make the front cover of the daily news. I just liked being associated with these two gents, who made me look good every week, as editor of the paper. I trusted both friends as if they were family, and when we had a chance to work more closely together, on feature projects, what great fun we had just doing our jobs. The company of my partners in the news business, made our newspaper a leader and not a follower. We couldn't get enough adventure to satisfy ourselves….and that meant we searched further afield; spent more hours on the job than we ever got paid for, and inspired each other to want more of the journalism experience. We always had big plans. Some came to fruition. Others were just put on hold, temporarily. We did have social lives, you know! 

     Personally, and it's just my opinion, we might not have been as happy as we could have been, based on the reality we were working at dead end jobs, fundamentally single, dating, but nothing that seemed to inspire us about lifetime commitments or future prosperity. I can't speak for John and Brant, but I was seriously and emotionally discontent. I loved my job as we interpreted the mission. I wasn't fussy about my employers. The fact I had, a few years earlier, come unhinged from a five year relationship with a former girlfriend, still made me miserable, especially at Christmas. It was my self-loathing period, as far as relationships were concerned. I had asked if she would like to get married, you see, and she responded, "To Who?" I was so out of there, as they say!

     On this particular outing, just after Christmas, my recollection is that we were all feeling a tad disconnected, from the way it was supposed to be…….and pondering more than usual, what the future held in store. Not just work. Each of us craved having female companionship though we sure didn't talk about it, for fear we'd lose our mission statement, of being tough newshounds. Nothing like being overly sensitive to ruin a truth-seeking mission. We were "manly men," looking for news to break out…..anywhere. We needed to expend a half dozen years of unspent hubris, welling up inside.

     It was the memorable Christmas season, in the early 1980's, when we didn't have snow until well after New Years. It was still cold but a very odd looking Christmas scene unfolding, in Muskoka, without its trademark (postcard pretty) mantle of white, to adorn both woodland and pasture. Brant and John were at loose ends, and we all acknowledged the need to grab some fill photographs, and maybe find some spot news to bank for the coming holiday paper. John welcomed Brant and I to hop in his Volkswagon (I think it was), and go on a Pre-New Years gad-about throughout the district. It was the first and only time we did this, and it just happened to be a unique time in Muskoka, without the snow, and at a time when we really needed to bond as reporters, to figure out our futures. This was by happenstance of course, as our futures all depended on the next pay cheque, or job offer to come down the pike. Things were slow. That frustrated us more than anything else. We always needed to feel as if we were moving, and accomplishing things……and it left a lot less time, to think about love lost, and the quest for true happiness. We just worked. Short of joining the French Foreign Legion, to lose our identities, we just found creative ways of staying busy. This journey of discovery was a clear example, of trying to find ourselves through the rigors of the profession. Self imposed as it was! We made our best discoveries this way. Immersion. The sink or swim theory, to create good from adversity. If we didn't drown first.

     We started out on the motor trip with lots of film for our three cameras. John always had a couple of extra cameras in his bag. Although Brant and I both were competent news and feature photographers……we, without saying so, understood our flicks were not quite as good as the master, who on this day, was driving us into the future. It was a sunny, beautiful and inspiring day, even for the down-hearted, as we might have defined ourselves, to any lady friends we met along the way……as a conversation starter. If we could get a hug, with a sob story, we considered it the fruits of our labors. Sweet fictions I think we called them. We had lots of stories to amaze an audience. Especially the local gals. Nothing like camera gear slung over the shoulder to get questions like, "Are you guys news photographers?" "Would you take pictures of us?" What a conversation starter. It's legend that day, and a wee bit of hearsay, we spent a few hours at the Red Dog (I think it was actually called the Redwood Inn), in Rosseau, recollecting our day in the snowless field.

      What was amazing on our gad about, through the Muskoka countryside, was the extraordinary opportunity, to navigate all the back roads and narrow cottage lanes, without getting stuck in the snow. It gave us access, by car, to a seasonal, leafless, barren Muskoka that we had never experienced before, so deep within……naked of snow in late December. We saw lots of people out and around, also feeling rather liberated by the prevailing, non intrusive weather, that seemed to us, likely to last for the whole month of January. We'd been driving for a couple of hours, and we had stopped ten or more times, to grab photographs of cows in pastures, a tractor digging in a field, horses with riders, in light autumn attire, several owls on stumps at roadside, two golfers hitting balls into the lake, and my favorite……a came of pond shinny, on a local farm, that provided some spectacular photographs.

    I remember us running up the adjacent hill, and whipping out all the photographic gear, to capture this certain front page image. What could be better for the New Years' issue, than farm pond hockey without the snow. We could frame in the barn and silo, the house, the sheds, the rail fence, a few cows, and what appeared to be a four on four game between mom, pop and the daughters, against the wee lads, and a cousin or so. We talked to them after taking the photographs. It was such a nice, Muskoka-perfect image, of a snowless Christmas scene, but at no loss of winter recreation. The kids wanted to pose for the camera. But we just wanted them to play and play hardy……to forget we were on that knoll above. This was an iconic Canadian image that we could have sold throughout the nation…….but we saved the best for our publications here at home. I wrote two huge feature articles for that New Years' issue, based on different aspects of what we had witnessed……of that scene…..that family recreation……in the sun of a glorious December afternoon. We saw our district, just as amazing and alluring, without its mantle of seasonal snow. It was enthralling and liberating……just as it was free of the harshness of winter, allowing us to linger on the hillside to make sure we had the best images possible.

     We were reluctant to get back in the car. It was just one of those moments when you just want to run off somewhere, and celebrate nature and life and all that freedom stuff. You just aren't sure what to do first. There was something intoxicating about the universality of our experience…..sensing that we had just seen something that was both historic and futuristic at virtually the same time. In the same photographic frame. It was all there. But we didn't feel overly contemporary about the exercise. It was surreal in its dimension, of what I can only refer to now, in retrospect, as "the abstractly picturesque." It was like being a color molecule, inside a Norman Rockwell painting. We became part of it. If some other photographer had come by, just then, he or she would have caught an image of the three of us, taking photos of the eight of them….playing pond hockey…… in the hilly, snowless embrace, of a rural Ontario farmstead……in the midst of a Canadian winter. It was poetry actualized. Realized for me. Whether my buddies on this excursion, knew that I'd been bitten hard, by enlightenment, well, in hindsight, I expect not. It was a day of excitement and liberation for me, but I was far more bound-up and humorless than they were, to start with. It was my news trademark. Being a miserable old sod, sticking to the protocols handed down to me…..that I didn't even half respect. This was the experience I needed most in my life…..at the most critical time, for it to instill something remarkable and progressive upon what can only be described as serious emotional constipation.

     I began at this point, to change my writing ambitions, and my work place ethics. I got some. Not borrowed ethics or imposed ethics, but ones I forged myself, based on what I could live with and still remain employed. We all had appreciation for that day of discovery, each garnering from it what was needed, to move on, move up, and grab that very next pay cheque……to pay for the very next round at the pub. My two important partners, for so many years, helped with my recovery into the real world……that I wanted to be part of……not just as a voyeur, which was what I had settled for, unknowingly for all the years previous. I'm not suggesting that this was a turning point for each of them. But when we talked about the future……and we did, I would say from what has happened ever since, that we were more visionary than we could have imagined. Each of us married. Me first. Brant may have been next. Then John. We got what we hoped for, finding wonderful, caring life-partners……, having children to boast about, each of us achieving, in profession, what we had speculated, in coffee-time chit-chat, was possible to accomplish. Brant became a well known writer, John a well respected Fire Chief……and Ted, a hometown blogger, columnist and antiquarian.

     I recall the evening John came over to the house, to visit, some years after we'd all taken the marital plunge, reminiscing about that winter excursion, and our hiatus at the old Red Dog on the cusp of New Years Eve. We didn't have anything profound to say about it then……and we really couldn't say that it changed our lives……but it was obvious, to three lonely bachelors at Christmas time, that it wasn't the way we wished to live……and of this, nothing else needed to be said at all.  But then nothing at all, could stop change from heartening…..brightening our futures with significant others. It was a great loss for all of us…..friends and community, to have lost John this year. I will cherish all the memories I have of this fine man……and good friend.

     Thanks so much for dropping in, for a hearthside visit. Say, would you throw another log atop the fire?