The Tale of Dorothy and Cecil

Dorothy and Cecil never knew each other but their lives are forever linked.  I don’t know the story of Dorothy and Cecil but I can certainly imagine it. 

What remains of Dorothy and Cecil are two child-sized graves sitting on the forlorn Saskatchewan prairie.  Cecil was born first, coming into the world in June of 1943.  He would only live for three shorts days before leaving this world forever.  One can only imagine that in those days, in this place, he didn’t get to see much of the world he was leaving behind.  Before his loving parents would have even had a chance to really know him, Cecil was gone.

Dorothy wouldn’t come along until a couple of years later, just a couple of weeks after Japan had surrendered in World War II.  Just as the world was entering a period of cautious optimism, I can image so were Dorothy’s parents.  Undoubtedly the death of Cecil would have planted seeds of doubt in their mind but they would have welcomed their new daughter with all the love a baby could want.

Sadly, it was not to be.  Just three weeks later Dorothy was gone as well.  Two babies in a little more than two years.

As I sit on the ground near these markers to take my photo, it isn’t hard to imagine the family gathering around this spot to put little Dorothy to rest,  The memories of Cecil would flood back to their minds as they clustered near his grave, just steps away. 

Cecil, who would have been the protective older brother in life is instead tasked with the responsibility of shepherding his little sister into the afterlife.  Their markers have stood beside each other for nearly seventy years.  They never knew met, they never knew the other existed, yet here they remain – linked together forever.

I don’t know the full story of Dorothy and Cecil.  As the years pass, the living memory of them grows ever more dim.  Are any of those who stood on this spot all those years ago still around to tell us?  Sitting here under the vast Saskatchewan sky, it’s almost as if the Shaw babies are able to tell their tale for themselves.

Lloyd Lake

It has been a long time since I’ve had time to write anything.  We were exploring some road allowances south of Lloyd Lake tonight in the Jeep and I came across this view.  I thought it was post-worthy, just for some new content on the site. 

After I Thought I Had Seen It All…

It’s a backroad I’ve traveled dozens of times in the past.  It’s a fairly straight stretch of blacktop that runs from Highway 22 at Hartell to Highway 2A just north of High River.  Straight as an arrow, it’s a pretty nondescript roadway.  I thought I had seen it all and there was nothing new to discover.

As we zipped along I made a passing remark about a series of trees planted along the south side of the road.  “There must have been a homestead there at one time; check out that windbreak.”

Then, I saw it.  Sitting at the back of the property through the trees I noticed a swing set.  Your standard A-frame swing set.  Rusty and alone. 

With a quick glance in the rearview mirror I slammed on the brakes and made a three point turn right in the middle of the highway.  As I turned down the grid road running beside the plot of land I saw the sign – a sign I had never noticed before.  “Former Site of Tongue Creek United Church 1916 – 1994.”

Grabbing the camera bag from the trunk I scanned the fence for the gate.  Before long I was tromping through the yellow prairie grass, still waiting for the warmth of Spring to come and turn it green.  Sure, I was looking for signs of a cemetery or a foundation or something tangible besides the sign to show me a church once stood here but my real goal was that swing set. 

I knelt down in the mud and clicked the shutter.  I repositioned and clicked again.  Then one more time.  Capturing the landscape but also connecting with the history.  Visions of children, dressed in their Sunday best, came to mind.  Children laughing and playing on that old swing set while nearby their parents stood visiting with their friends, casting the occasional glance to make sure the kids weren’t dirtying or tearing their clothes as kids are know to do.

Countless stories took place at this spot.  Secret crushes were revealed to friends, veiled under the vague promise of “Don’t you dare tell her!”  Teenagers hid back here to sneak a quick puff of a cigarette while comparing who had the fastest car.  Weddings.  Funerals.  Stories that are lost to the passage of time – except for that one brief moment when I was able to connect with them once again. 

Walking back to the car I couldn’t help but feeling pleased with this discovery.  That plain old backroad revealed something new to me after I thought I had seen it all.  Those are the moments that make this exploration worthwhile.

She Reminds Me of Laura

No, not some long lost love from junior high – Laura, Saskatchewan.

Dubbed by Mike Stobbs as “The Town That Leans”, Laura was home to a church with a noticeable tilt, along with a pretty badly broken spine.  It was one of those places I had driven past many times and I had even taken note of the interesting church since it was quite visible from the highway.  It wasn’t until the second Ghost Town Convention stopped by Laura that I actually had a chance to really check out the ole girl.  I’m glad I did too, for the church has since collapsed, presumably under its own weight.  The last time I drove by the only thing still intact was the steeple.

Laura wasn’t on my mind when I caught a glimpse of an old church sitting in the town of Aldersyde last Friday.  I made a note that I would have to investigate that church the next time I was passing by.

The Laura Lean, Saskatchewan Style

Well, “the next time” ended up being today.  I was northbound on Highway 2A and I decided I shouldn’t waste the opportunity.  A quick detour off the highway and soon I was parked across the road from your typical old prairie church.

The first three things I noted were the stained glass was intact on the west side, completely missing on the east.  Then I noticed all the rabbits.  It would appear the Aldersyde church is home to a ton of the furry creatures.  The third thing was the  property was marked with multiple signs warning people to stay away as the building had been deemed unsafe.  Unsafe?  Sure, every abandoned building is unsafe at some basic level. 

 The Laura Lean, Alberta Style

The I noticed the lean.  A distinct lean to the east, as it were.  It is as if the church is finally giving up after fighting the chinook winds which have hammered it from the west since it was erected.  Slowly but surely she is surrendering to the ravages of time, the inevitable increase in entropy which is the ultimate fate of anything which is left abandoned. 

As I drove away I wondered how many more times I will be able to drive along the highway and see her standing there.  I drove away thinking of Laura.

Tickled Pink

Something told me to throw my camera bag into the trunk before heading out the door to work this morning.  I had barely started off down the road when I noticed the sky changing with the rising sun.  I stopped the car and pulled over. 

I wanted to to get down in the ditch and shoot the first photo from closer to the ground but there was a lot of water and mud there and I didn’t want to end up getting dirty – after all, I was on the way to work, right? 

This pattern continued for the next couple of miles.  Drive.  Pull over.  Shoot.  By the time I reached the highway the morning sun was illuminating the mountains in the west with a brilliant hue.

After snapping off a series of bracketed shots I returned to the trunk to put the camera back in its back.  In that instant it was gone.

The sky had returned to a normal colour.  No more pink.  No more drama.  Just your typical sunrise.

It’s all about timing.  Life is nothing more than a series of fleeting moments and if you don’t take the time to stop and appreciate them they can pass without ever being noticed, let alone appreciated.

Don’t let it pass you by – keep chasing the light.

The Road You Leave Behind	Springtime in Alberta
The Ghost of the White Horse	Morning Sky Over the Priddis Valley