Your clear waters calm my soul with every stroke of my paddle. My red canoe is drawn to islands where solitude and reflection have sustained me through formative years. A father’s love of nature flows through my veins like warm Summer breezes, and lessons learned are appreciated with every sunset’s glow. You are the catalyst that reunites long lost friends. You are Lac-du-Cerf.
For you Bill on our 37th anniversary.
Back to the Artwork pageYour clear waters calm my soul with every stroke of my paddle. My red canoe is drawn to islands where solitude and reflection have sustained me through formative years. A father’s love of nature flows through my veins like warm Summer breezes, and lessons learned are appreciated with every sunset’s glow. You are the catalyst that reunites long lost friends. You are Lac-du-Cerf.
For you Bill on our 37th anniversary.
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I find my rest in silent choices. Breathe in your surroundings, as your work is now done. Listen to the stillness, and accept the gifts of canoe point.
The Great Canadian Shield not only anchors us to the original inhabitants of this vast country, but it acts as the geological glue that binds all of Canada together. We stand as one on a firm foundation, following the example of the Maple, Pine, Birch, and Sumac, as we celebrate our diversity in varied colours, shapes, strengths, and purpose. Be diligent and shield our natural heritage and traditions from all who claim to make sound environmental decisions on our behalf. Speak out with your heart. Speak out with your soul. Listen to the ancient voices.
More than one hundred years have passed over Achray landscapes. A guardian of the land, entrusted to protect the pillars of the forest, ventured along Grand Lake shores in search of inspiration. Across the waters of Carcajou Bay, violet horizons roll in serpentine rhythms, while foreground branches bow in sunbathed splendor. He ensured his dependent lived forever in his oil sketch, as rocky shores, pristine waters, and windswept Pines were the culmination of Thomson’s Jack Pine visions.
I hear the world differently than you. Visual cues present themselves, and guide me in ways unknown to most. I hear rustling leaves through oscillating shimmer, as they dance to an East wind’s command. The splash of a Northern Pike delights me, as ripples radiate then fade to still waters. A loon’s crimson eyes rise and fall in royal splendour, as its lonely call brushes my soul. Night falls as ashen shadows and azure skies cloak reflective silence. All who bear witness unite in my world. I am not alone in the presence of the night birch.
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