Way back when in October, I made the trek back to the native homeland with the significant other.
I was still trying to get used to Canada after my summer in Europe, believe it or not, and probably one of the things I missed about Canada was – forgive the stereotype – the open space! I mean sometimes I even miss the open space when living in Ottawa. I KNOW I’M A STEREOTYPE. Embrace it. I have. When you grow up in a province with a population density of 1 person per 2.2 square kilometres you’re used to some space. Also the sunsets and sunrises are really unlike any other… But I digress…
With all last summer seriously lacking in anything to do with nature, I was determined to go on a hike near my cottage. Yet, the odds were not ever in my favour. (Hunger Games reference, anyone? Anyone? Timely.)
Rain. Of course. Unbeknownst to me, my parents had been to an old Anishinaabe sacred site. Instead of carving or painting figures into the landscape, these peoples instead laid out rocks, both big and small in different forms – like turtles, snakes, fish, birds. Thank you mum for taking us here instead!
It was a really surreal experience to say the least. You’re standing on a huge open granite rock slab with hundreds if not thousand year old stones. They also really discourage anyone tourist from walking in the woods nearby because apparently a bunch of people have gotten lost. It’s like a different time there.
The central ceremonial area was beautiful.
It’s still a sacred site that’s often used for spiritual ceremony and you find signs of this all over, especially with the strips of fabric and tobacco that are remnants of past ceremonies.
Adventure time with family!
Also, here’s a montage of my dad’s horrible, awful white sneakers…
Also, we found a giant overturned tree, roots and all. Naturally we put our faces in it.
More cool shit about the ‘forms. Click!
*All other images courtesy of Conor M. Smith