The other day was the first anniversary of Dad’s death.
I knew what I wanted to do that day – I wanted to go down to the lake and watch the monarchs flying south.
Last year when the call came that he was gone, I stumbled down to the lake and sat in one of those Muskoka chairs they have down there and just watched the water, the birds, the monarchs. September the monarchs are in full migration mode, making their chaotic tiny flutterings out over the harbour.
There was some loose sense, as I sat there, that Dad’s spirit was flying off on one of his travels – he was always off somewhere.
They might be a little lost in the fog here, but…
It’s amazing, the voyage of the monarchs – how many kilometres for them to fly all the way to their winter sanctuaries in central Mexico? Some 3000 to 4000 km?
We see them making their way out over the Toronto harbour, and then on the other side of the islands, they launch out over Lake Ontario itself.
In fact, a couple of days later I took the ferry to the islands with a friend, and we puttered around, looking north towards the city skyline, and the monarchs were everywhere on the islands –
Deep in their favourite flowers, getting fuel for the flight –
Resting up before the longer leg of the journey over Lake Ontario itself –
Of course some of them – no doubt many of them – don’t make it.
Launch and make your move and hope for the best.
Get as far as you can while you can, while the spirit lives within you.
Dad made it to 90 and a few months – about as good as it gets.
Lens Artists Challenge – Move your body
