Travelling on September 12 seemed simple enough. Once you heard the
horrific news of Sept.11, life was a different tone; more sombre
like the autumn we were driving into and yet flashes of bright golden
trees dazzled against the back drop of rock and green. We were a joyous
lot, happy we could ride together, visit, pray and talk- for hours!
There is a rhythm to leaving an island; you drive in anticipation
to the port; you wait; you drive onto the ferry and closing car doors
you ascend up to another life, floating above the water. It is like an
oasis of rest before driving the long haul. We sat like warm kittens,
basking in the water-reflected sun. The trip starts again on land; glad
we made it , eager to go on. It is our little holiday time away.
We begin our way on the Trans-Canada . Our destination that first
day is Hope! Driving towards Hope is entering the Land of the Enchanted
Forest! The road rises up to meet you, the trees crowd around to
give a sense of safety and the mounatins await your breathless attention.
We could have chanted a dozen Gelineau psalms antiphonally with
Mother Nature! Nightfall came far too quickly, it seemed. We squinted
at the signs to find our way to the heart of Hope, We were tired,
hungry and seeking shelter. Chris spied some swiss -like cottages and thought
they were meant for us and indeed across the street was the only open
restaurant- Japenese food! The Korean manager showed us our cottage-
all made of wood as if once carefully built by a carpenter out of
love. We sought our Japanese fare and enjoyed every moment of its
delicate and tasty meal. It was a good place to break bread. We closed
the evening in somewaht awestruck wonder, watching the news reports of
terrorism. We could only pray for peace and safety out there. We were in
the nest the carpenter had built. To drive from one mountain range
to and through the next is like being part of a great Haydn Symphony:
"The Heavens are telling the Glory of God"! There are no small words
to describe this experience. It is much more the child-like chin
dropped and eyes wide in wonder look And forever wondering how Rogers
managed to site that pass and indeed made it possible for us to get
to Golden . With children called and cared for and messages to the
Calgary frontier, we were well settled to arrive at beautiful Bragg Creek
in time for the first meeting. This beautiful little town nestled
in the arms of the foothills was the perfect stop to meet all the
Corpus caravansary. The building was a round log powerful and beautiful
place. The Spirit began to move as usual, in strange ways: the facilitator
designated could not arrive. But the gathering soon took on its life.
and we began. There is nothing more thrilling than meeting and greeting
the folks. And so the trip, begins and continues.
Travelling on September 12 seemed simple enough. Once you heard the
horrific news of Sept.11, life was a different tone; more sombre
like the autumn we were driving into and yet flashes of bright golden
trees dazzled against the back drop of rock and green. We were a joyous
lot, happy we could ride together, visit, pray and talk- for hours!
There is a rhythm to leaving an island; you drive in anticipation
to the port; you wait; you drive onto the ferry and closing car doors
you ascend up to another life, floating above the water. It is like an
oasis of rest before driving the long haul. We sat like warm kittens,
basking in the water-reflected sun. The trip starts again on land; glad
we made it , eager to go on. It is our little holiday time away.
We begin our way on the Trans-Canada . Our destination that first
day is Hope! Driving towards Hope is entering the Land of the Enchanted
Forest! The road rises up to meet you, the trees crowd around to
give a sense of safety and the mounatins await your breathless attention.
We could have chanted a dozen Gelineau psalms antiphonally with
Mother Nature! Nightfall came far too quickly, it seemed. We squinted
at the signs to find our way to the heart of Hope, We were tired,
hungry and seeking shelter. Chris spied some swiss -like cottages and thought
they were meant for us and indeed across the street was the only open
restaurant- Japenese food! The Korean manager showed us our cottage-
all made of wood as if once carefully built by a carpenter out of
love. We sought our Japanese fare and enjoyed every moment of its
delicate and tasty meal. It was a good place to break bread. We closed
the evening in somewaht awestruck wonder, watching the news reports of
terrorism. We could only pray for peace and safety out there. We were in
the nest the carpenter had built. To drive from one mountain range
to and through the next is like being part of a great Haydn Symphony:
"The Heavens are telling the Glory of God"! There are no small words
to describe this experience. It is much more the child-like chin
dropped and eyes wide in wonder look And forever wondering how Rogers
managed to site that pass and indeed made it possible for us to get
to Golden . With children called and cared for and messages to the
Calgary frontier, we were well settled to arrive at beautiful Bragg Creek
in time for the first meeting. This beautiful little town nestled
in the arms of the foothills was the perfect stop to meet all the
Corpus caravansary. The building was a round log powerful and beautiful
place. The Spirit began to move as usual, in strange ways: the facilitator
designated could not arrive. But the gathering soon took on its life.
and we began. There is nothing more thrilling than meeting and greeting
the folks. And so the trip, begins and continues.