Will Always Be
Don River Valley, Ontario
Turkey vultures, seven in number, were gliding above. And under them was this valley that I chose to explore more. Along this Don River, European stock squatters of the 19th century housed themselves here adding a rich history that I know little about.
On a tree in the valley hung a clear plastic jacket which contained details of this history. Looking at the contents of the page I read on. People made mud coves here and canvas tents later for homes. Garbage would be lit to provide heating fuel for the winter. Criminals and the diseased made this valley along the river their home base. Men fished and women made baskets from local reeds.
Roma gypsies came for shelter here in the early 1900’s. Then the Don Jail was constructed. Police rounded up criminals and gave them their new dwelling, the prison, south on the river. The diseased became quarantined.
There were more pages to read but darkness crept in and so I was compelled to come here for page 2 on another day. All these images of people in the valley came to mind While the vultures left the valley, so did I.
Upon leaving the valley to the Toronto street level I met Pat with her two dogs. Pat and I have a brief history. In ’96 I met her and her hubby on the Trans Canada Hwy, 2,000 kilometres from here. They were in a truck. They saw me in the robes, were curious and stopped. Here we met again.
Souls do meet, separate and then connect again. I’ll be back to the valley. I hope to see the vultures again but it’s not likely. In any case the day ahead will be rich and Krishna will be, as always, the cause of all these causes.