from the mountains to the prairies

I stand by the words that I wrote the first time I drove through the prairies as an adult. Driving through the prairies truly does feel like driving to the ends of the earth. The road stretches on ahead of you for miles and miles and miles, it’s dizzying.

Waterton, Writing on Stone, and Grasslands; they all have a particular feel about them that is heavenly to me. They’re peaceful, sacred, silent, magnificent places that made me so humble in gratitude for the ability to be there, witnessing their beauty. As I drove the quiet stretches of two lane roads down to Grasslands, it was so quiet, and peaceful. I stopped on the side of the road and ran and danced and no one drove by for a few minutes at a time. There were sunflowers growing on the side of the highway basically all the way south as I drove. How did they get there? I wondered to myself. A sign. Bright beauty to help me keep going through those long stretches of driving.

Back to Waterton. Sun setting over the mountains. Walking through burnt forests where I could already see the new saplings coming up, reminding me that everything has to die before new life can be born. Cycles of death and rebirth. Rushing waterfalls cutting through the mountains and into canyons. The bright red colour of the red rock canyon against the clear blue water. Sharpness of the mountains at the peace park. The blue of the water. The granite rock. How I stood there five years earlier, so afraid, so uncertain, so unknown, so sick and unsure of who I was, to be there then, felt like a miracle. So much pride. The next morning waking up and heading to the lake for my last cold mountain dip and watching the early morning fog blow off of the mountains like steam off of a hot body of water. Off of a cool lake in the morning.

Buffalo Jump. The cliffs. The sacredness of that land. How the fields used to be filled with hundreds and hundreds of bison. The immensity of the age of the land really gets to you. Really reminds you how insignificant you are. How life is so precious. How the time we get really is so short in the grand scheme of things.

Omg the hoodoos!! I almost missed them what the heck. Wow. The gorgeous hoodoos. The sunset that first night. My dreams. The sacredness of them. Their colour. Their shape. Not even believing they’re real as you drive up and then out of nowhere there they are amidst flat farmers fields that stretch on and on all the way into Montana. The heat. Omg the dry heat of the desert that made it hard to breathe. The way the rocks were formed by melting glaciers, the age. The time. The plants. The birds. The insects. The milky colour of the river.

Escaping severe tornado warnings and the darkest rain clouds I had ever seen for a motel and TV and a call with my bestie and Japanese food.

To Grasslands. Is this heaven? I kept thinking to myself. I have reached heaven. I have died and gone to heaven. Truly. The badlands. Meeting a couple from Sidney driving to Newfoundland then Churchill in their van and wishing each other well on our travels. Getting to experience the badlands of southern Saskatchewan ON MY OWN!!! Walking through the badlands that night, turning my face towards the sun, all went quiet, it was so so quiet, and watching the storms roll through all around me, feeling like I was on another planet amidst dry, cracked earth, cattle dung patties everywhere all around me. Majestic. Otherworldly. Silent. So so silent.

Coming back, sitting in my car listening to Used to Know by Lord Huron off the new album, oh driving through Saskatchewan listening to the new Lord Lord album, it pours rain, sun showers, then a DOUBLE FLIPPING RAINBOW!!!!!

Quiet, quiet night. Now know the definition of silent night. Wow. And the stars. Omg the stars and the Milky Way which I hadn’t seen something like that in ages. Absolutely astonishing. Takes your breath away. Slept the deepest I’ve yet to sleep on this trip.

Waking up and driving 8 hours to Winnipeg. Visiting the Canadian Museum for Human Rights. Continental breakfast and a swim and the Forks Market and the meeting of the rivers, and driving into Ontario and being so astonished THAT I ACTUALLY MADE IT!!!

“I’m home. I’M HOME! I’M ACTUALLY HOME!!” I screamed.

All for now,

All my love,

Onward.

-m