The Alberta Journal
Life in its patterns
It was an arduous Albertan winter. The temperatures fell to - 45 degree centigrade. Edmonton was the coldest place on the planet for a week or two. The winds moaned incessantly and snow drifts piled up high in our front lawn. Nature appeared insensate. I ventured out for grocery essentials on one of those sub-zero days and thought I was in the midst of an Alistair Maclean's novel, namely "Ice Station Zebra"! In times such as this, a human being asks one self... "Where am I? Where have I been? and... Where am I going?''. Then one evening there were sparks in the dark night sky. I saw flashes of the aurora borealis that only manifests itself in the arctic zone. It was eerie-the skies lit up like a fireball and then the spirit of the great North appeared to speak: "Patience, my child...life unfolds in its own patterns, of which you are only a small part...Embrace the North and it will embrace you." Alberta is one of Canada's western provinces. It is home to the famous Angus Beef and the Calgary stampede. This is the wild, Wild West at its very unsurpassed. Alberta is also rich in oil and coal and has an abundance of natural resources unknown to the other Canadian provinces. Edmonton is the capital city of this province and it is here and in my forays into its surrounding cities and towns that I am learning the ways of the great North. Acceptance is one of the ways. In myriad ways, I have learnt that resistance is basically futile when you hurl yourself against the harsh elements. "Give in" whispers the great North "...and you will be taken care of". The Native Indian aboriginal people who live here are generous with the stories of the true North. A junior colleague at work (of native origin) relates to me tales of moose hunting and deep winter fishing. A dark mist hides her face when she talks of death on frozen ponds and lakes that give away and engulf the intruder on the icy surface. "But that is nature...it take away life and gives it back to the earth in some other form". The Native people are wise...they retain their perspective of life through folklore and tales. This wisdom is a far cry from the cosmopolitan, frivolous Toronto that I have left behind. This astuteness is deep rooted in this fertile earth reminiscent of the indigenous tribes that settled here centuries ago from Asia and brought with them the worship of the earth and the desire to preserve it. Here I am also learning minimalism and affection for the wilderness around me. The Canadian Rockies are wild, untamed and startlingly exquisite in their simplicity. On a trip to the mountain town of Banff in December, I discovered the sheer majesty and the enigma of the Rocky Mountains. The Rockies are a magical geological juggernaut. They were the bottom of the sea when upheavals in the earth's core over hundreds of years twisted and shaped them into mountains. Now the reverse is happening: wind and water erosion is eroding them away. From a geologist's perspective they are diminishing, even though the vanishing act will take millions of years. One silvery dawn in Banff, I ventured outdoors when it was still dark. I wanted to see the sun rise over the Rockies. Many moons ago, my father and I had gone to Darjeeling and were awakened early by a group of other tourists who were scrambling outdoors before sunrise to see the Kanchenjunga at dawn. At that time, I was a teenager and thought that they were gibbering lunatics to rise at dawn. Now as an adult, I was obdurate to see the sun ascend over the Rockies. It was glacial that morning. A tinkle of laughter came from me, partly in cold and partly in anticipation. There was a faint rustle in the bushes as we waited. A bear or an antler, perhaps I thought. I had seen the footprints of the coyotes around. Could they have belonged to some hungry Grizzly bear? I shivered slightly inside the car and bundled up tighter. The mountains were pristine, poised for glory and there appeared a faint glow in the horizon. I emerged from the car and sat on the hood to get a better view. We waited. The sun crept slowly over the tops of the mountains, embracing its curves and emerging with the force of its mirthful strength. Awe swept through me. Now I understood how life can stand still for one second and yet rip through centuries. These mountains in all their might and glory were at one time at the bottom of sea and were now towering over me. "Could these mountains become the seabed once again?" I wondered to myself. The mountain air blew around and softly whispered into my ear... "Nothing remains the same...only change is constant, my child". I went back to the hotel that morning after a hot pancake breakfast at MacDonald's, a little more tranquil and filled with the pure knowledge of the mountains. This was beginning to feel like home.
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