57099--Empress and beyond

[zyzyly]

One thing about being up in Canada in the middle of summer was that the days were pretty long. It made for days that could be filled with lots of different experiences. Most of what I have written in the past few days actually occurred in the course of a single day.

After I left the grain elevator museum, I headed toward Empress, which sits near the confluence of two rivers near the border with Saskatchewan. The girl in the grain elevator museum told me there were some art galleries there and thought I might enjoy them. There's mostly just open farmland in the area, with a lot of old barns and structures.



This was one of the pictures I posted at the time I was traveling. It was one of my favorites from the trip. I like the bird on the roof of the last shed.

I got to Empress, and there wasn't much there. Another dying town on the prairie. I found a closed-up hospital, but didn't take any pictures. I ended up in a art gallery cafe called That's Empressive. Interestingly enough, they still have a website, so I'm guessing it's still there.



The woman who runs the place is called Nokomis. She is an Ojibwa artist, who likes to paint scenes from her childhood in the wilds of the north, the daughter of a trapper. I now remember that I bought some of her artwork, and have it somewhere. I will have to dig it out. We talked for a while and I ended up just kind of pouring out my story to her. that was one of the hardest things about this time in my life--no one to talk to. She made me a cup of coffee, listened, and offered me some words of wisdom. She fed me a bowl of soup and gave me a direction to travel in.

The road she told me to follow was an dirt road with no name. I was a little hesitant, as it was already after 5 pm, but decided that I would just go and see what happened. I took the road with no name and came across a ferry that crossed the river and took me into Saskatchewan. I remember that the ferry driver was in full mosquito gear. I rolled down my window for a second and was attacked. Thus, no pictures of the ferry crossing.



I came across a little church in the middle of the field. It was open and I went in and prayed a little to the emptiness and aloneness that was God.

Eventually I came to the town of Leader, and started looking for a place to stay. I didn't find one, but talked to a woman who had a photo gallery who told me there was a campground in Maple Creek, which was the next town. She had a beautiful picture of the sun setting behind a grain elevator hanging on the wall. I drove over to see the elevator.



Here's the interesting thing about the light--it was almost 9 pm, and the sun was just starting to set. After the elevator, I went out to a cemetery on the outskirts of town, and took some pictures out there. None of them are any good. That's one thing I have learned in the interval--composition. Looking at them I can see how I would approach them differently today.

It was almost ten pm when I drove back from the cemetery. As I headed to the next town, I passed the grain elevator as the sun went down.



I wrote in my journal that evening: "Somewhere in all this, I recognized that I had made some sort of transition--that this day had been special and unique. I have moved outside of myself and my grief, at least for a while.

Comments

[neptunia67.livejournal.com]

I find grain elevators to be sort of creepy. I don't know why.

The photos are fantastic, though. I especially like the row of sheds and the grass field in front of them.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

I found the inside of them to be creepy--all these little dark spaces, dusty, and with vaguely unsettling noises.

That row of sheds was one of my favorites from the entire two month trip.

[laciann.livejournal.com]

That last picture is beautiful. The traditional prairie grain elevators are all being torn down, and replaced with ugly soul-less concrete towers. I always get a twinge of nostalgia when I see one of those grand old pioneers. They feel like "home".

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

As I drove across rural Canada, I was aware that I was seeing the end of an era. Pretty much all the old grain elevators had already disappeared in the US. the other thing I noticed was that the unique diners in the small towns were gradually being replaced by chain restaurants.

[laciann.livejournal.com]

The Prairies used to filled with Chinese restaurants. Every little town had one. They're mostly gone now. The immigrants' children have all become doctors and lawyers, and places like Tim Horton's and Subway fill the gap.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

yes. Interesting what we gain and what we lose.

[anita-margarita.livejournal.com]

Around 1970 I went to Montana with a friend and her family to visit her uncle (the perfect Norwegian bachelor farmer) and that was the first time I saw endless fields of wheat, silos, and grain elevators. It's stuck in my mind all these years; these photos remind me of that week.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

This was my first exposure to the vastness of the prairie, other than from books. I had never been to the middle of the US, or seen the miles and miles of golden flatness.

[thoughtsbykat.livejournal.com]

Prairies have a beauty of their own. I like your photos, the row of sheds, grain silos and the peaceful little chapel. I think the creative arts such as photography, writing and art is a type of therapy.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

I agree that creative arts are therapeutic. I think that it was photography and journaling that got me out of my own head during this period in my life.

[kishenehn.livejournal.com]

Just wanted to say that I am thoroughly enjoying this series. My kind of trip!

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

It is interesting to go back after this interval of time and revisit it. I have a much different perspective now than I did then. I will take it up again periodically, I think.

[amaebi.livejournal.com]

I really like seeing these pictures of your journey. Thank you.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you are getting to see them, and that you are following along. :)

[elainetyger.livejournal.com]

Well the last pictures is gorgeous of course, but I especially liked the church's interior and the artist's arms.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

I did a google search the other night, and the artist is still there, and still has the gallery. I think I will send her a note and thank her for that moment in time.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

What a beautiful series of photos and memories. Meeting a stranger in a strange place, the way you met Nokomis, can be so wonderful--the listening that someone like that can offer, so generous and without any strings attached--there's nothing like it. And it can be a gift for the listener, too. It's great that you got a photo of her, and that you bought some of her art. And now you're telling us, too, so the story of that moment lives on.

And wow, the photos. That first one--truly like cottages by the sea. And the church! And what you say about praying there . . . and then the light against the side of the grain elevator--and indeed, the fullness-and-emptiness of these photos, all sky, all air, all suffused with light--and loneliness. Wow. Very special indeed.

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

It is so.......I don't know, visiting these images so far down the line, and reading my old journal. The memories flood back in, but are held at a certain distance by time. There's a richness in this that I can't ignore, but I'm really not sure what to do with it all other than do this.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

(You've put that last one on Tumblr, but can you put the other ones too? I will reblog them from you)

[zyzyly.livejournal.com]

I put up a few others--thank you for reposting them. Tumblr's kind of a mystery to me--I never know what picture is going to spark interest.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

Don't forget to put up the church too! (and thank you)