Yesterday I went out in the garden, cleared some weeds, and built some crazy-paving steps.
The rocks of Ontario are sharp and abrasive. My fingers are sore. The soil in our garden is sandy and soft.
There is a physical pleasure in connecting to place, touching the stones and earth, tending the plants. Even if the rocks made my fingers sore.
We also have grapes and gooseberries growing in the garden, and plan to plant more food plants, and some herbs. There’s a raised herb bed, so I’m looking forward to planting some herbs in it.
The wall you can see behind me is apparently 100 years old. The house was built in 1880. When I think what was going on in this area back then (the Mohawk Residential School, now the Woodlands Cultural Centre, for example), it gives me chills. I went into town yesterday and there was a sign giving a partial history of the town: it references the grant of the land to the Six Nations, but doesn’t say that it was purchased from the Mississauga people (part of the Anishinaabe). It needs to go into a bit more detail about that, I think.
This afternoon we are having a barbecue, and I’m intending to do a land acknowledgement as part of it.
Photos in this post by me & Bob