I listened to the radio, to the CBC broadcasts. I listened to music, and sang loudly with it. Then swhistled loudly over the weather forecast that the radio voice kept repeating. I stood in the wind and listened to the waves on the river, the waves on the beach. I baked in the sun while I read a novel. I ate an orange in the sand and cheese in the forest.
First stop on Goose Creek Rd was a kennel of sled dogs who perked up at the approach of my car |
Second stop: I found a new dump of twisted metal scraps |
A taxidermied fox with the fur removed, found at the dump... |
What's left of the foundation of a house in "Dene Village" |
Third stop: marshes |
"One of these mornings You're going to rise up singing Then you'll spread your wings And you'll take to the sky" - "Summertime" by jazz artist George Gershwin |
Adrift |
The singing tower at the weir. With the wind blowing at 40km/hr the metal sang like blowing air over a bottle top. It was beautiful. |
The end of Goose Creek Road: the Churchill River |
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