We moved a lot when I was growing up. But, my constant was Canoe Lake in Algonquin Provincial Park in Ontario, Canada. Even as a teenage girl, I knew I was lucky to be there and appreciated every minute that I was there.
I was at camp there and a large part of our experience was “trippin'” and no, not what you think. We’d travel by canoe to outer reaches of the park – many times not running into people for days or as we got older, our trips were longer, and sometimes we wouldn’t see or hear other people for a weeks.
Aaah… the silence, the loons, the trees… dipping a cup in the water and drinking. Sometimes, I still can hear the loons when I sleep.
I also spent my years there listening to stories of Tom Thomson — a Canadian artist who died a mysterious death. I revisited Algonquin Park a couple of years ago… this scene is close to where Thomson’s body was found. There is now a cairn there. His spirit is still whispering through the trees there.