In last week’s blog, Vera shared that we have chosen three particular places to get to know well. She introduced us to “Ruby’s mecca”. This week, I (Sue) would like to take you across the road from our farm to an old shelterbelt flanked by two small wetlands. Known by our kids as the “Mooney trees”, this was a favourite family play spot for at least two generations. Recently, as our senior dogs, Herc and Lady, needed shorter walks, I began to frequent the Mooney trees. Less than an acre in size, this small paradise offered our dogs plenty of tantalizing smells, keeping their noses to the ground and their tails quivering with excitement. The Mooney trees have taught me that there are so many ways to know and love the land. Here is one.
It's late March in southeastern Saskatchewan, the time of year when we are all weary of putting on layers of winter clothes, when the boots and socks and ski pants and toques and neck warmers feel heavy and cumbersome on our bodies.
There is a compensation however, because after 5 years of drought, the winter of 2022 has brought an abundance of snow to this thirsty land.
So much snow, in fact, that the drifts in the Mooney trees are sometimes higher than the willows and even reach half way up the tallest trees.
Today, Vera and I are going “drift- hopping”- setting off as if we are going on the greatest adventure, which we are!
Once up on the drifts, we can hardly believe that the snow can hold our body weight. It feels so improbable and surprising to be so high up, to look down on trees and bushes. We hop from drift to drift. We feel on the top of the world. Despite the heavy layers of clothing, we feel light as dandelion seeds.
And so it goes – step, step, step, step …..
until BABoom
when one leg plunges down through the snow, the other leg still on top, and we are marooned until we extricate ourselves. Brought down to earth, so to speak! We laugh like banshees and pull ourselves out! We don’t want to stop drift hopping. We feel seven years old.
Sometimes we can walk for several minutes before the inevitable BAboom. Occasionally, there are more BAbooms than drift hopping.
We spend some lighthearted and absorbed hours exploring the drifts before returning inside with clumps of snow stuck in our boots, wet socks, and ruddy cheeks. We are energized, nourished and cleared out inside by the morning adventure. No coffee needed. Hot chicken soup? You bet!
Does our adventure “drift hopping” remind you of similar adventures you have enjoyed on the land? Some of you know I offer PLAYshops – anyone interested in a “drift-hopping” PLAYshop should we get enough snow?
Last blog, Ruth commented that when she takes friends to the land, they get “happy and light hearted when we are on ~with the land. Land loves us back!” Is it your experience also that “land loves us back”? Or would you express this in another way?
As ever, we look forward to your reflections and stories and appreciate every time one of you joins us around the kitchen table – whatever we are serving…coffee, sticky buns or chicken soup!
*My favourite defintion of the verb skylarking is “to frolic or to engage in horseplay” or “spree, frolic, merry adventure”. Its origin is nautical (1809) in reference to "wanton play about the rigging, and tops of sailing vessels" This verb is related to the noun “skylark” - a small brown passerine bird, Alauda arvensis, that sings as it flies high into the air.
“Where will the frogs sing?” is the collaboration of two rural settler artists creatively responding to the beauty and destruction of Saskatchewan’s wild remnants of land to encourage reflection on the land’s intrinsic value.
I love how you two have so much joy together and bring out your inner children 🤗💛💛 it comes right off the page into the reader! Shay and I enjoy reading these blogs out loud to each other - much love and laughter included! The Mooney trees seemed very far away and spread out when we were younger. I remember that we spent more time with our friends in the trees part than the slough. But we also did our fair share of drift hopping! For the most part we would see how far we could get through the trees, crawling, climbing and investigating. We were very thorough and slow but one day we did make it out the other side - what the heck?!? I thought this was unending...
I am just so enjoying your blogs! This recent drift hopping brought back younger days in Hubbard and the fun we had when we could walk on the drifts that were above the telephone wire! We were little then so we didn't have many break throughs! That was the epic snowy winter when the CNR steam engine had to be manually dug out! Not sure if it was 1952 or 54..