There are touches of red in the maples up here in
northern Ontario, and the goldenrod is starting to bloom; it all
foretells things to come for which I am not ready. It is rainy but great
to rendezvous with long-time Canadian friends. On the other hand, since
we live at the back of beyond in the peace and quiet of wonderful
woods, even the most rustic campground seems contrived and crowded.
I miss my clay and pots and their regular
multi-phased progression by which the former becomes the latter. I
expect I will meet a potter or two before getting back to Lost Hollow; I
will need to get my hands around a nice stoneware shape. On the other
hand, there is a 50-pound box of clay with us in the trailer, along with
a tray and a straw. Do you know how many Kahoka beads that combination
can produce? But first I’m looking for moose and if I am very lucky,
maybe a wolf. Bears we have at home, for which I am grateful. Along the
way I notice leaves I am not familiar with and imagine how they would
look on clay. H’mmm.
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