I am from paper snowflakes, gesso-coated fingers and mismatched antique chairs.
I am from the tall red house steeped in mist and ferns and cedar. I am from the patio herb garden and rocky forest trails.
I am from pigeons’ wings on Granville Island, home-roasted coffee and bedtime rounds of â€œold maid.â€ I’m from an 1827 wooden fort and library square, from hand-written letters and photoshop.
I am from the long lane to the bus and wiener roasts in the woods, from Helene’s Christmas and my brother’s â€œfriends of the day.â€
I am from cracking black walnuts on the chesterfield in front of the TV, picking up stones among the soybeans and from pictures on the wall.
I am from frozen, snowless soil, bread bags in boots, warming mitts on the woodstove, and Friday night Rook with popcorn. I’m from heaps of books under my pillow, from writing books and French poetry, from skipping out of gym.
I am from â€œDelayed obedience is disobedienceâ€ and â€œA bird in the hand’s worth two in the bushâ€ and â€œBaby Beluga in the Deep Blue Sea.â€
I am from family roadtrips in the green station wagon, nights in the orange canvas tent en route to the Thousand Islands, PEI, and Little River Lodge.
I am from the hundred-acre farm a mile from the lakeshore, a thousand miles from anything else. From the maple sugar woods, the barns my great grandparents built on the land their forefathers claimed. From the maple tree whose roots stir up chips of china from bygone days. I’m from heaps of mouse-nibbled letters, leather postcards and rusty hat pins.
I am from meat and potatoes, hand-cut kernels of corn and dessert at every meal. I’m from curry and caramelized onion and fig pizza and chili in a pumpkin.
I am from Lacolle and St-Jean and vintage clothes shops in MontrÃ©al. I am from blustery prairie winters, Northern Lights and Scrabble with Downhere.
I am from all over Canada, yet rooted and grounded in land that has no form, in the cloth of restless and real faith.
I am from black and white, from a decade of grey, from creating life in full colour.
Linking up with SheLoves. Where are you from?
I was inspired to write this by my sister’s post.