NEWFOUNDLAND LABRADOR–A GREAT FIND!

Loss is the theme for this post. When thinking of loss of life, relationships, precious items, I recall the ache that goes along with those sad moments of our lives.

Sometimes, in the midst of a moment, we also find out about other people’s losses.

This theme today led me to think of a memorable holiday in Canada‘s amazing province of Newfoundland Labrador. Please drop by their site to find out more about the province!

DAILY VIEW IN NEWFOUNDLAND!
DAILY VIEW IN NEWFOUNDLAND!

In 2008, my husband and I visited the western coast of Newfoundland. From the moment of landing at the small Deer Lake airport, there was a sense of being “at home” in this rugged province.

Meeting the people as we travelled the west coast from Deer Lake and Gros Morne, north to St. Anthony and L’Anse aux Meadows, only heightened that feeling of well-being.

We found many treasures of people and culture and geography there.

We also learned of the loss that Newfoundlanders had experienced in the fisheries. This government-imposed limitation on the industry severely impacted individuals and families. To regain financial stability, some families re-invented their materials for the tourist industry; some moved away. Whatever they decided to do with their situation, many turned their loss into more positive event with their creativity and ingenuity.

In reflecting on this trip, I realized that I had found so much in this last province to join Canada. I also learned that loss can spur people to use their energies to get past that loss and to move ahead.

Today’s prompt inspired me to finish this little poem that I wrote  as a tribute to all those who did manage to adjust to the challenges of such huge change! Happy Canada Day, All!

How I learned of loss in my Finds!

 

Music of ancestors and Irish descendants—

That’s what I learned in grade 3

When Mrs. G. taught us to sing I’se the bye.

Then,

I never knew about

Newfoundland’s

Wildflowers and whales

Melt-in-your-mouth pastry

Partridge berries

Bakeapple jars of jam

Seafood chowder

Catfish and codfish

Kitchen parties

Viking settlements

Magma on Gros Morne Mountain

Former fijords at Western Brook Pond.

It is all digitized now on the machine* but in that summer

We learned about the loss of the cod fishery from a son who showed us

The lobster traps and the nets and the old shacks

We saw and felt and touched the artifacts of days gone by

Near green mountains with spots of snow

Rippling waters

Misty hazy foggy weather over

Bogs nestling practically perfect pitcher plants,

Growing there, in the rich peat soil of Newfoundland,

With not so purple flowers, in the real.

*machine—slang for a computer

©  2013 Patricia A. McGoldrick

Posted in response to a prompt at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.ca/2013/06/fireblossom-friday-loss.html

Advertisements

Poetry of Jim Morrison

Music, to many of us, is a road map of our lives.

Deutsch: Chord progression and Melody of the D...
Deutsch: Chord progression and Melody of the Doors-Title Riders in the Storm (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Many songs remind us of a particular stage of life, for better or worse.

A recent  prompt at IGWRT is focused on Jim Morrison, one of the very talented musicians of The Doors, who died in his late 20s.  He was renowned for his music but Morrison was a talented poet as well. One of my favourite songs by this group was an amazing work of lyrics and instrumentation–Riders on the storm. The poem inspired by this song is pasted below.

Remembering Jim Morrison’s Riders on the storm

Rain filters down
while thunder plays
in Riders on the storm
a song that still haunts me
since my high school days

In our small town
they say that his tune was playing
on an 8-track that keeps on going
while teenage friends were driving home
after scoring a win in the ice hockey game.

Seems no one saw that transport
careen round the corner
on a wet stormy night in November
and when the police arrived at the scene
Jim Morrison kept on singing
though the teen voices were gone

And every time I hear that piano rain trickling down in
Riders on the storm,
I think of Morrison, our long lost friends and his song.

© 2013 Patricia A. McGoldrick