Saturday, April 05, 2008

Pierre Burton, Defining Canada

I haven't made love in a canoe. I imagine that I could figure how one would succesfully go about it; I do after all, list canoeing as one of my few areas of expertise. That list would also include rolling cigarettes while driving, packing the trunk of a car for long trips, and almost always being able to clean not only my own plate but anyone else's around who may have given up on the task.

I have wandered off topic, another one of my many talents. Canoeing is one of those endeavours which can bring a peace of spirit akin to opening a window in a musty room. It is the navigation of that suspended balance between air and water, the efficiency of a paddle blade, the shifting vista, and the exploding silence.

I remember as a boy, taking my fathers canoe out, from the limestone beach in front of my grand parent’s cottage, pointing it at the horizon, and riding stationary as the waves came in. It came naturally, and I developed a steady hand without ever having to take the paddle out of the water. I would do this for hours on end finding some peace or comfort in the primal element.

"A Canadian is someone who knows how to make love in a canoe." Well... it ain't over yet.

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