Symphony Under the Stars

There's something magical about the sounds of the night, especially up here by the lake. As the last light of day slips behind the trees, the world seems to hold its breath. The day creatures retreat, and the night takes over with its own symphony. The water laps softly against the dock, and somewhere in the distance, a loon calls out—a lonely, echoing sound that could almost be mistaken for a ghostly cry.

But the star of this nocturnal orchestra is our resident horned owl. He’s become something of a regular, a fixture in the tall pines that surround our little slice of the north. Each night, without fail, his deep, resonant hoots fill the air, a call that seems to speak of ancient mysteries and the wisdom of the wild.

At first, his call was a little unsettling. We weren't used to the sounds of the wilderness, and his hoots seemed to cut through the night with a haunting presence. But as the nights passed, we grew accustomed to it, even comforted by his steady, reliable call. It became a part of our new life, a reminder that we were no longer in the city, surrounded by the noise of traffic and sirens. Here, the sounds are different more natural, more primal.

One night, as were getting ready to settle in, we heard him again. His hoots were closer this time, as if he had decided to pay us a visit. We sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic call that seemed to vibrate in the stillness. It was almost like he was talking to us, sharing the secrets of the night.

What we did come to find out was that there were two, and one was marking his territory. 

We’ve come to think of him now as a guardian of sorts, watching over our little patch of land. His presence is a reminder that we’re not alone out here, even in the dark of night. There’s a whole world that comes alive when the sun goes down, and I'm just beginning to understand it, we as Annette already understands.

So now, when we hear his call, it no longer sends a shiver down my spine. Instead, it feels like a greeting—a welcome to the night and all its mysteries. I  may have been city girl once, but up here by the lake, I'm learning to embrace the sounds of the wild. And our horned owl, with his hauntingly beautiful hoots, is our guide into this new world.

Manitoulin Island's Rainbow Rise: A Celebration of Pride and Unity

The sun rose over Manitoulin Island, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, heralding a momentous day for the Island.   The town square was abuzz with excitement and anticipation as people gathered for a significant and inclusive event: the raising of the Manitoulin Pride flag.

At the center of the square stood a flagpole, its surface gleaming in the afternoon light. The Pride flag, a vibrant tapestry of rainbow colors, was nearby, ready to be hung. The crowd, a tapestry of faces from across the island, filled the space with a mix of cheerful chatter and respectful murmurs.

As the ceremony began, Bobby Huddon, a beloved Port Francis activist known for his tireless advocacy for 2Spirit rights, started to address the crowd.  His presence commanded attention, and his smile radiated warmth.

“Hello, everyone,” Bobby began, his voice carrying clearly over the gathered crowd. “Today, we come together to celebrate not just a flag, but the values of inclusion, acceptance, and love. The Pride flag represents the diversity within our community and the promise of a world where everyone, regardless of who they love or how they identify, can stand proudly in their truth.”

He paused, allowing his words to resonate with the audience. 

We were honored to be joined by Elder Jenny Jacko and Craig Abottossaway executive of Mnaamodzawin today. Their presence underscores the importance of coming together as one community, united in our celebration and respect for each other.

With Bobby’s opening statement setting the tone, Elder Jenny, a respected member of the Anishinaabe community, stepped forward. Clad in traditional regalia, her presence evoked a sense of deep reverence. She carried with her the wisdom of the ages, and as she began to speak, the crowd fell into a respectful silence.

Elder Jenny raised her arms slightly, her voice soft yet powerful as she offered a prayer in Anishinaabemowin. Her words wove a tapestry of gratitude and blessings, invoking the spirits of the land and the ancestors. She prayed for unity, understanding, and respect, asking for guidance and strength as the community embraced this moment of celebration.

When the prayer concluded, a deep sense of peace settled over the square. Craig Abotossaway, then took the stage. Craig was known not only for his leadership in health services but also for his commitment to fostering cultural understanding and inclusion.

He approached with a blend of solemnity and enthusiasm. “It is a true honor to be here today,” he began. “The raising of the Pride flag is a powerful symbol of acceptance and equality. It is a reminder of our shared humanity and the need to support each other, no matter our differences.”

His words carried a profound sense of purpose. He then turned to the gathered crowd with a smile and said, “In keeping with our tradition, I’d like to offer a song that has been a part of our ceremonies for many years. It is a song that celebrates the unity and strength of our people.”

With that, Craig took out a hand drum and began to beat a steady rhythm.  Bobby joined in.   Craig's voice soon joined in, singing a traditional Indigenous flag-raising song. The melody was both haunting and uplifting, a beautiful blend of tradition and celebration. The song spoke of community, respect, and the enduring spirit of togetherness.

The moment was deeply moving—a harmonious fusion of cultures and celebrations, reflecting the spirit of Manitoulin Island’s diverse community. As the final notes of the song faded away, the crowd erupted into applause, their cheers mingling with the sounds of the surrounding nature.

The ceremony concluded with a young girl coming up and raising the flag.   The Pride flag continued to wave in the gentle breeze, a symbol of pride, unity, and the shared commitment to a more inclusive and loving world.

The day left an indelible mark on everyone present—a powerful reminder of the strength found in diversity and the beauty of coming together as one community.

An Afternoon Kayak on Lake Manitou

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm, golden light across Lake Manitou. It was the kind of afternoon that begged for adventure, where the air was still, and the water shimmered like liquid glass. Annette and I decided it was the perfect time for a midday paddle.

"Ready to hit the lake?" I asked, pulling my kayak towards the water’s edge.

"Always," Annette replied, with a grin that matched her enthusiasm.

The lake looked inviting, with its deep blue water reflecting the clear sky above. We pushed off from the rocky shore, our kayaks gliding effortlessly over the calm surface. The warmth of the sun was tempered by a gentle breeze, making the afternoon feel perfect—like the universe had conspired to create this moment just for us.

As we paddled further out, the world around us felt alive with the sounds of summer. Dragonflies darted above the water, their wings catching the light, and the distant call of a loon echoed across the lake. The shoreline, lined with tall pines and rocky outcroppings, created a picturesque backdrop that could have been pulled straight from a postcard.

We paddled in sync, and sometimes not as our kayaks moved smoothly through the water. The sun’s rays were intense, but the lake’s coolness rose to meet us, creating a comfortable balance. Time seemed to slow down, and we found ourselves lost in the simple rhythm of paddling—dip, pull, glide.

The lake was at its most serene, the stillness only interrupted by the occasional ripple from our paddles. We paused, letting our kayaks drift, and simply took in the beauty of our surroundings.

Days like this make it all worth while, no noise, just us and the lake."

We floated for a while, letting the sun soak into our skin and the peacefulness of the moment wash over us. It was a perfect escape, a reminder of why we had left the bustle of the city for the tranquility of the north.

Eventually, we decided to head back, our kayaks slicing through the lake.

As we approached the shore, the day’s adventure felt complete. We pulled our kayaks onto the dock, our arms pleasantly tired from the paddle, and stood for a moment, looking back at the lake.

"That was perfect," Annette said, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Absolutely," I agreed.

Lake Manitou, with all its beauty and calm, had offered us yet another perfect day.

Captain Hook in Head Does it Again!

August 2, 2024

My father in law had always been a city man. The hustle and bustle of urban life was his comfort zone, and he rarely ventured into the world of nature.

But ever since we had moved to the north and embraced life by the lake, he felt a growing curiosity about this new lifestyle. So, one sunny Friday morning, he decided it was time to familiarize himself with the boat that was purchased last year.

The boat, gleaming in the sunlight, was tied up at the dock. He approached it with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

Annette, had just gone to dock our pontoon and I went out to venture with my son and his family.

As I was leaving I could see the determined look that he had as he climbed aboard, feeling the boat gently rock beneath him.

He started by inspecting the boat's various compartments and equipment. As he opened up compartments he had noticed some rusty lures. He reached into his tackle box and grabbed a small tin to store the rusty lures. As he was putting the tin back into the box he noticed his favourite lure in the top tray of his tackle box as he went to move it into another place the lure fell through a small hole in the tackle box. In an attempt to push the lure through the hole the lure got stuck in his finger, that’s when he felt a sharp, searing pain.

Looking down, he saw the lure's hook embedded deeply in his finger. Panic surged through him as he realized he had no idea how to remove it safely.

The pain was intense, and he could feel his pulse throbbing around the embedded hook.

"Joan!" he called out, trying to keep his voice steady.

My mother in law, who had been inside the house, came rushing out at the sound of his voice. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw the lure dangling from his finger. Without wasting a moment, she tried to help him pull the lure out, and it just went in deeper.

At that moment Annette arrived with her friend George who tried to pull the lure but to no avail. Off to the hospital it was.

The drive to the hospital was quiet at the thought of what he had done.

Annette had had nothing to eat by this time and had to get ready for two gigs, decided to call me. We ended our sightseeing early and I came to relieve her.

There was a waiting period at the hospital, and I was told by him that we had three people ahead of us.

When Evan the nurse, a kind man with a reassuring smile, examined the injury and explained how he was going to remove it, I thought mmm sounds easy enough for you! He set to work. With careful precision, he removed the hook, cleaned the wound, and gave him a tetanus shot.

He let out a sigh of relief, lying back on the hospital bed.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, spending an afternoon at the hospital.” But I guess it's all part of the learning process."

As we left the hospital, he felt a strange sense of accomplishment despite the mishap. He had stepped out of his comfort zone and survived to tell the tale a second time.

His bandaged finger was a reminder of his adventure, but it didn't dampen his spirits. Instead, it made him appreciate the unpredictable beauty of life in the north – and the value of family support during unexpected moments of chaos.