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Abandoning, disconnecting from the city, the pavement, the heartless hardness of �civilization� Shedding layers of dead skin, and the dead burdens of the pressures and cruelties of what is laughably referred to as �Life� in the city, in the house that is not a home. I set my sights on that which is wild by the standards of those who have not touched and breathed Mother Nature. Riding the surface, choppy swells shake loose the rusted fragments clinging to my soul. Pine needles brush dust from the hidden facets of myself, and reveal my colours. The Loon�s song beckons, awakens, welcomes me back, and my inner voice sings in harmony. I dance on the waves, caressing them with my paddle. I touch the shore, the living stone and fragrant earth. I have returned to where I live. I have returned to me. I am home. Robert Piquette December 21, 2006 (My canoe trip to Parc La V�rendrye, August 2006) |
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