Brightness Explodes

 

Brightness explodes in my mouth

Raspberry redness delights my eyes

And tiny seeds crunch in my teeth

As I chew the bites of jam on toast

And sip my morning tea.

 

Outside, darkness deepens

Ladened grey clouds roll in

Bright lightning delights my eyes

As thunder explodes all around me

The storm gets closer

The clouds relax, releasing their load

Raindrop ping on the steel stovepipe.

 

I am safe and dry, warm and fed

Domesticity and wildness

Fill up my sense concurrently

I feel alive.

 

A Mischief of Magpies

 

Ever since my trip to Calgary last month, I’ve been thinking a lot about buffalo, (the common name of bison).  Every morning for three weeks in July, I took my daughter’s dog out for an off-leash walk around a fenced athletic field near their home.  Aivah, the dog, had her own route and I trailed along behind her adjusting myself to the new terrain.

I normally live on the shore of one of the Great Lakes and spend time in mixed hardwood forests with a great diversity of plant life.  The grasslands biosphere of the prairies feels quite different with its Poplar and Aspen trees. Within Calgary, there does not appear to be a great diversity of natural species.  The Bow River is the tuquoise water that carved out the river valley where my daughter lives.  It undulates through the city with parkland and trails accompanying it on its journey.  Instead of power boats, seadoos and canoes which I see on Georgian Bay near my home, the fast flowing Bow River is dotted with rafts and kayaks all floating along downstream, carrying their passengers effortlessly.

I feel more at home on the land where I have grown up even though it is not the land of my ancestors.  It is familiar and I know the birds, plants and animals.  Visiting the ancestral land of the Siksika (Blackfoot), Stoney Nakoda and Tsuu T’ina Peoples feels quite different.  I was curious to visit with the plants, trees, waters and the birds.  Some of the birds are the same as those that I share a home with.  However, one bird in particular is different.  The Black-billed Magpie does not live where I do.  But, in Calgary, it flourishes.

Black-billed Magpie

Although many people dislike Magpies for their mischievous nature, I find them intriguing.  Members of the Corvid family like crows and ravens, they are intelligent birds.  Their wings are black and white with a blue patch on their backs.  Their long tails are iridescent black.  They are loud, raucous and curious.  And I love them.

I started to notice a few magpies in the field where I walked the dog every morning and eventually found a dead tree that they liked to frequent.  They were curious about me as well and one started to sit on the fence every morning to have a look at me.  Every now and then, one would swoop down and fly close to the dog’s back as if having a closer look.

A Mischief of Magpies

The field we walked in had soccer nets in various places and was mostly green grass with some poplar trees planted at the edge.  The magpies sat in those trees as well.  Very near the field was a tall ridge that marked the edge of the river valley.  The Canadian Olympic Park is built on the side of the ridge.  You can still see the ski jump that was part of the 1988 Olympics built on the side of the hill.  Part way through my trip, I learned that this part of the ridge was used by the Siksika as a buffalo jump in which the buffalo were herded off of the edge so that they fell to their death.  Then the people would come and dress the meat, preserving it for the long prairie winters by drying it.

Top left, you can see the tower and ski jump of the Canadian Olympic Park.
This is the ridge that was once used as a buffalo jump.

After I learned this, I started to feel into the land.  I imagined buffalo grazing where I was now standing.  I imagined them running off of the edge of the ridge and flying through the air.  I imagined how the buffalo kept the people alive and the interrelationship between them and those people.  I learned that the magpie and the buffalo were also interrelated.  The magpies would eat ticks and insects from the back of the buffalo, helping to keep the magpies fed and the buffalo healthy.

Tragically, the settlers killed almost all of the buffalo in their greed for land.  As the First Peoples began to starve without the buffalo, they were coerced into signing treaties that forced them onto small pieces of land.  Without the buffalo, the First Peoples were at the mercy of the greedy government.

And so, as I walked on the grass of the soccer fields with my daughter’s dog who had been adopted from the Stoney Nakoda First Nation in Kananaskis, AB there were no buffalo.  Many of the Siksika (Blackfoot People) were displaced onto reserves.  Only the magpies remained on this field as loud reminders of this big disruption.  The magpies have learned to live with the settlers, finding food where they can.  As I felt into the land, I felt the absence of the buffalo who played a critical part in keeping that ecosystem healthy.  I could feel the land’s longing for them. Some say, that the magpies are waiting for the buffalo’s return as well.  I feel grateful for the Siksikaitsitapi-Blackfoot Confederacy Nations of Kainai-Blood Tribe, Siksika, Peigan-Piikani and Aamskapi Pikuni who work for the betterment of the people and the land.  I felt their absence from the land as well and I got a better sense of why land back is so critical.

I learned that buffalo, unlike cattle will face into an oncoming storm and walk through it, thus shortening the time spent in the storm.  Cattle will stay and huddle or walk with the storm, thus prolonging their exposure.  This behaviour of the buffalo is an excellent metaphor for facing oncoming challenges and dealing with them.  Perhaps, we settlers have acted like the cattle that we brought with us from Europe and are still not facing up to the consequences of the worldview that we have brought to Turtle Island.  I imagine us learning from the buffalo and facing the issues that threaten our survival together, as one huge herd. I imagine us learning from Indigenous worldviews how to respect the Earth and all our relations and how to live together.  And, I imagine, the magpies accompanying us on our healing path back to wholeness.