Maya is back in the city after almost two weeks at the cottage. Or as we say in Quebec, the camp. She went with Glenn and the three boys (cats) and I'm told a good time was had by all.
It is a very basic camp on a private, small lake with only one other camp around the point and out of sight. I have owned it since 1968 and prior to that I lived on a farm 15 minutes away. It is a very unique place and completely irreplaceable in this day and age. We are close to all amenities but so secluded that it seems like wilderness.
Over the last 42 years, very little has changed because we fall between the tourist and cottage areas of Montebello and Lachute. The people here are real, they come from generations of farmers and loggers. We are also protected from the outside world because our lake is one of a chain of private lakes up our mountain road. Each landowner on the four lakes shares the same wish, privacy and very minimal disturbance of the natural order. Hence we still hear wolves in the fall, Whippoorwills in the spring, loons and owls all summer, and otters, beaver and muskrats share our water. Deer and Moose wander our woods and there are signs of bear. It has become clear to me over the years, that private ownership, leaving a small environmental footprint, is a superior way of protecting nature, than governments. Governments change and so too their commitment to protection and heritage. Whereas, we are families that pass our values on with the land, to succeeding generations.
Maya is my succeeding generation. She has such a close connection to the land the cottage that I really think it would be very sad if she couldn't make more use of the place. But she needs to be there to discover what she is missing. The longer we remain away the more tenuous the connection becomes. We forget the people and places that matter the most, and we forget our roots.
That is both a blessing and a tragedy for the human race. The blessing of forgetting accounts for our adaptability and survival. We can adapt to almost anything. The tragedy of forgetting is the loss of our heritage and our centre. Throughout the ages we have learned that we forget our heritage at our peril. We loose touch with our values because we have lost or destroyed what is essential to a sustainable environment. Then we have no choice but to adapt to a "brave new world". The end result is something like the Gulf Oil Spill or Bhopal, or the Exxon Valdez - environmental risk-taking and banditry and ultimately the destruction of our planet. No other species fouls its own nest as we do.
I hung on to the cottage, through good times and bad (it wasn't always easy), to ensure that we never loose sight of ourselves. I deliberately kept it basic because living simply, without the distractions of "modern" society, not only is cheaper, but teaches us to enjoy what is. Making do with our own intellect and skills has built confidence and restored harmony in us both. Living within the rhythms of nature has nurtured our deep respect for nature. It has kept me in balance from a sometimes crazy life in Montreal to New York, and Toronto to Peterborough. It always reminded me that there was more to life than career, money and blind ambition. I learned I could do great things in sincere and simple ways. It kept me spiritually honest.
This little space in the universe is my legacy and it's my deepest wish that Maya can continue to derive sustenance from our rare and precious cottage.
