journey east: day 13

June 14, 2006

I drove 626 km today for a total of 2815 km travelled since leaving North Vancouver. High temperature was 26c.

The call of peacocks somewhere in the park, or is it the call of peahens? Either way it is a haunting sound. I'm at a campground nestled in a residential part of Souris, Manitoba. I wonder what the neighbors think of Victoria Park campground and its noisy peacock/peahens.

My tent is set up not too far from a stagnant brown river. The opposite campsite has two trailers. Its occupants, five adults, are headed tomorrow for a game of golf. It is a big annual deal for them and the spirits are flowing. In a tree notch nearby Mystic Forest incense burns. For now, scotch will do. I just noticed there is a golf cart in the back of the pickup across the way.

This place, set within trees set within an urban landscape, is far removed from the wide open space I occupied last night. No predators, no danger from the dark. This morning I left a place muddied, but unbloodied or bruised, which was flat, treeless, and mostly dry.

Both places have chilling midnight calls: peacocks and coyotes.

Last night at Grasslands National Park it was remarkable for the stars, the moon, the wail of the coyote and the dry winds of the prairie. This morning it was remarkable for the dark clouds which brought hail and rain and thunder and great pink and green streaks of lightning.


after the rain. Grasslands National Park.

I took few photos today. I was not in a sight seeing frame of mind. Distance on the prairies is deceiving, even with a map to guide, and I have a long way to travel. Winnipeg tomorrow.


Found this little guy checking me out when I woke from my nap. I don't think he wanted to eat me.

For most of the day I travelled into a headwind. A bit of a hassle because it requires greater concentration to keep the car on the road. But the winds have a pleasant side to them as well. The grasses at the roadside are green and at times are mixed with the silver tips of barley. In the wind the shimmer like ocean waves. Organic, rippling, these are Saskatchewan seas.

Haiku (composed long ago)

Saskatchewan seas
An early summer wind blows
Green waves across fields


A bird on a post somewhere in Saskatchewan.

There are oil rigs all through southern Saskatchewan. They are clustered more frequently and in larger numbers than I ever sawin Alberta. Industrial metronomes pulling oil up and out of the earth they age like farming machinery, looking rusty and crusty as the years go on.