Spring has come to Algonquin in reluctant strokes of fragile warmth. Cool waters ripple as icy coverings are released, and return slowly to fluid motion. Closing hours of daylight spawn Winter’s last flurry, and a chill returns to the now placid waters. Distant shores lose definition, and mystery returns in the Mew Lake mist.
Back to the Artwork pageSpring has come to Algonquin in reluctant strokes of fragile warmth. Cool waters ripple as icy coverings are released, and return slowly to fluid motion. Closing hours of daylight spawn Winter’s last flurry, and a chill returns to the now placid waters. Distant shores lose definition, and mystery returns in the Mew Lake mist.
A man weaves tales of this land through poetry and song. Senses are awakened by images of past glory, as well as those of immeasurable pain. Challenges are whispered, to all who will listen, from frail limbs and foreboding eyes. Chanie Wenjack’s secret path jolts us into uncomfortable realizations of historical disconnects, and untold misery on the tip of a Raven’s wing. Pearls of wisdom, spoken by a sister, seek a different world through truth and reconciliation. We are all connected to someone, as Gord is to Chanie. Follow the examples of those who came before us, and seek the strength to facilitate change. Let us dance for healing under the moonlight on ashes of love. All is possible with the promise and power of courage.
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.
Darkness descends on all who dwell here. Silhouettes emerge from granite pedestals set on fluid plains, but one stands out as a visitor to this primal land. Light ignites in feathery plumage dividing a placid sky. Ribbons curl on Eastern breezes, scattering celestial diamonds for all to see. Protect this place. Embrace its warmth and special gifts. Let its soul burn within you like Algonquin embers.
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.
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