Two weeks ago, I landed in Cusco, Peru, which is 11,000 feet above sea level. From the airplane, I could see tiny communities nestled in the most unlikely places at the peaks of mountains, sometimes connected only by small dirt roads. Kind of like a rez way up in the sky.
The chirping birds are a signal that spring has finally arrived in the North. The burbling sounds of the rapids have a calming effect as they soften my memories of the latest blizzard, hopefully the last until sometime in July. The rocks of old are showing themselves under the rushing waters of a small river. I wonder how long those rocks have been there... since time immemorial?
It looks like the swallows are back and that is a sure sign of warmer weather to come. A couple of weeks ago I heard the honking of Niska (Canada geese) as they paused to take a break on the field behind our house in Kirkland Lake. They seemed to have moved on now and have arrived at their summer destinations on the shore of James Bay.
The rush to get to camp is on so we can harvest geese, caribou, bear and other wildlife that abound on our lands. I hear a small bush plane taking off with a load of cargo or passengers, noting that everyone has that new look on their faces, the one that glows with anticipation of returning to camp. Yes, it’s that time of the year again – Spring Goose Break.
There was electricity in the air when Kahnawake Grand Chief Kahsennenhawe Sky-Deer spoke about a special moment in Mohawk history. She was referencing the co-ownership deal on a proposed $1.1 billion transmission line to export yet more electricity to New York City that the community signed with Hydro-Québec.
There’s little wonder why the ancients were in a state of shock and panic during a total solar eclipse. Many cultures feared the “end of times” or some other impending catastrophe during an eclipse.
I phoned my brother to give him some sad news about myself. I admitted that I’ve been sick and needed to let him know. His bravely solemn tone indicated that this wasn’t what he was expecting to hear from me. He wanted to know what was wrong and I stated rather seriously that I had goose fever.
As Goose Break approaches, I share the heartbreak of my fellow Crees who won’t have a campsite to return to this season. I’m also holding my breath, hoping this forest fire season won’t be as bad as the last.
March was Cree language month. Various people did different things to acknowledge it such as the local Mistissini Cree Language Conference. Cree language has been taught in our schools for many moons now. This is both in the written and spoken forms in Southern and Northern dialects.
The pounding blizzard, beating rain, deafening hail and the fallen trees laden with jagged ice. Then the disconnection from the power and communication grid. Apocalypse? Hardly, it’s just typical northern Quebec weather that will change several times during a day in the supposed warm spring months.
