A northern monologue
I was just thinking about how, on the prairies, there are no old structures and I was thinking about how that has affected me. Or, perhaps I should say how much it affects me to go to places where things are made of stone and buildings are hundreds of years old.Growing up on land that is always changing, I guess I've never felt sure of my footing.
Good point. I grew up on a farm within a short walk of tipi rings, the foundations of what I consider the prairie's first buildings. Some, such as those at Wanuskewin, which isn't that far away, date back 8000 years. I remember standing in the centre of one looking down on Luck Lake, flocks of sandhill cranes and snow geese overhead, thinking wow, someone had stood here thousands of years ago and watched the same spectacle of migration. The same prairie crocuses would've been blooming. The sun hitting the same lichen. Generation after generation. That's part of what has affected me.
150 years! That's one old soddie!
Soddie! Don't hear that term too often!
I'm up on my prairie vernacular!
Somehow that doesn't surprise me!
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