COLUMN: Tales from the Gravel Ridge – Our moments matter

The lives of all of us are made up of moments, and of course, this particular moment is all that any of us has at this point in time.

The poet Rudyard Kipling gives those moments an interesting characteristic when he states, “If you can fill the unforgiving minute …” Those minutes, and indeed no moment, ever returns. We may find a moment exhilarating, or perhaps boring, and doubtless some that are deeply disturbing, but the moment never comes back to give us a second chance to experience it. It is in that sense “unforgiving”.

There are however, moments in our lives on which we can reflect deeply and meaningfully. They may have shaped the trajectory of our earthly journey in ways we could not have planned or even imagined. It may well be that we would not have chosen certain moments, but they have nevertheless become an enduring reality of our lives. So too have other moments that continue to fill our lives with joy and beauty.

Some events in our lives may not, on the surface, seem to be especially momentous. Nevertheless, they continue to nourish our lives by the breath-taking splendour of that moment, and by its significance in the overall design of the universe. They were moments that were evocative for me.

Many years ago, better said decades ago, my sister Anne and I were walking home in a southerly direction on what is called “Blatz Road” in the community of Rosengard. We had paid a visit to the farm home of our eldest sister Katie, nee Falk, and brother-in-law, Jake Penner. Walking on that familiar stretch of road did not normally yield any especially notable experiences. This day’s walk however remains clearly fixed in my mind as it does for Anne too. On that day we both saw a skunk leisurely crossing the road from east to west, not more than forty feet ahead of us. Normally that would have caused us some consternation, fearing that we might be sprayed by this white-striped black cat-like mammal. However, the skunk appeared to be perfectly unperturbed. She had important matters to contend with. Following her was a stately parade of four young skunks, also entirely at ease. The matter that was of utmost importance was to get to the other side of the road, and then to vanish into the bush. Apparently they did not view us as trespassers. After all, we were all on a public roadway, Anne and I being homeward bound via the road, and they likewise heading to their home in the “school quarter”, which was land that had been allocated to the school district. The skunk kits no doubt were receiving their education in their own safe environment.

On another occasion our father, Cornelius Falk, and some of us younger children were returning home in our horse-drawn buggy one summer evening, again having been at Katie and Jake’s home. I have no recollection for the reason of that trip. It wasn’t a social outing as in that case our mother would also have been with us. What stands out in my mind is a spectacular scene of fireflies merrily dancing on the right side of the road on which we were travelling home that evening.

A little bit of our family’s history is playing out in that location today, as one member of Katie and Jake’s own extended family has settled on a portion of the farm that was their home back in 1947.

To my mind such beautiful reminders of the place of nature in our environment are, in the words of John Keats –

A thing of beauty is a joy forever:

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health and quiet breathing.

Our present moments quite often also affect the lives and experiences of others. It seems fitting to me that we reflect on the song, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me”.