Where Has All The Time Gone, a Lament or Irony?

 

Photos by Suzanne Currie

THE ANTIQUARIAN’S LAMENT - WHERE HAS ALL THE TIME GONE, AND ISN’T THAT IRONIC FOR ANY HISTORIAN TO ADMIT

A Preamble to Today’s Post

BY TED CURRIE

     Maybe this will surprise you, if you have been following along this newly launched “Birch Hollow Antique Press,” to find out that I am a rather invisible fellow truth be known. There was a time in newspaper days, when I had no choice but to be out there in full public view, and then again when I was curator of the Bracebridge Sports Hall of Fame, and public relations director for the Muskoka chapter of The Crozier Foundation, appointed by Roger Crozier himself, when it was part of the job to participate in community events, including public speaking gigs which I despised. I’ve lived most of my life as a contented “backbencher,” and as a hockey goaltender, well, I was the back-up goalie for many years, and it worked fine for me. I’ve always been happiest to work behind the scenes, and I have been more interested in output than playing the public relations game. I have always been a tad controversial, and outspoken, in person of course, and rather biting, and ulcer causing to my adversaries, in my preferred print format. When both boys were born, they headed my newspaper column, which in the 1980’s had morphed from “Cold Coffee,” to “From the Bleachers,” and later, “Hometown Advantage,” when I work for Muskoka Today here inheritance Gravenhurst, with my newsy chums, Mark and Hugh Clairmont, at their First Street office. Through these published columns which got a lot of attention back then, I documented the Currie family triumphs and subsequent disasters, which used to make Suzanne mad; she didn’t appreciate the freedom of the press thing, especially when I was being too honest and overly intimate with my editorial slant. I won’t deny that I was a huge admirer of Toronto Sun columnist Paul Rimstead’s daily columns, because he was frightfully honest and unafraid to highlight his personal shortfalls, especially when it came to managing his relationship with alcohol. His wife didn’t appreciate the exposure in the press either. Paul went to Bracebridge High School as I did, and he had quite a bit of Bracebridge content turn up in his work, and I truly admired how this local kid growing up rural, had become one of the best read columnists in the country. He began with his sister Diane, publishing a neighborhood newspaper known way back as the Beatrice Bugle, because their farm house was on what is known as the Beatrice Town Line just north of Bracebridge.

     But no matter how many times I referenced our sons Andrew and Robert, and Suzanne for that matter, up to and including the present, my family, as a rule, does not read any of my editorial work. This has been a forever kind of thing, and while it should make me feel a little disenfranchised from the family unit, it actually gives me enormous freedom to let it all hang out, you might say.  In the past few years, both Suzanne and I have had some health issues that demanded we change our lifestyle, and spend a little less time worrying about everything in the world, especially the trillion things we can’t correct or heal. Part of this “facing mortality thing,” for me, was to reconcile with my earlier writing days, and the moodiness and spirituality I utilized to make my copious notes about everything that inspired me, even in the most minor way. Instead of looking through dusty and faded long-shelved photo albums of our family, Suzanne’s and mine, I began trying to work out a new relationship with work that I hadn’t read since the day I proofed it, seconds before it was sent for publication. It has been an archives issue that I have avoided until this year, and it is why I have been using so much previously published work; and adding preambles to make it somewhat relevant to the situation at present; whatever that happens to be. We all have the urge now and again to re-visit something we have done in the past. We have all had to face up to the disadvantages of a continuing severance, from reality, or the faint but potential benefits of the kind of reconciliation that can make all the difference to the aura of the future as it “might be” if everything, as they say, falls into place. I needed to go back in my archives to figure out who the hell I was back in the late 1980’s and why, for example, I became so political by the late 1990’s. I know why, without reading back posts, but for me I needed the validation that I was at least being sensible with my editorial bent; and that if I did jab and poke local politicians, it was the same as I would do today under the same circumstances and same issues affecting the town and region. I needed that knowledge of enduring consistency, and this is exactly what I found.

     At this most wonderful time of the year, despite all the stresses and Covid situations that seem to be building by the day, I am so pleased to have had you join me on this most intimate adventure back into my archives, managed so dutifully by my research assistant, Suzanne, who has defied my orders many, many times, to delete my old stuff. I got loose once in the side shed of our house, and threw out thousands of back issues of newspapers and feature publications I had worked for, since the late 1970’s, on a day that she was hosting a yard sale at Birch Hollow. I made three trips to the recycling bins here in Gravenhurst, and when Suzanne asked me what I had been up to with all the short road trips, I invited her into the storage room to see how the clutter had been reduced. “My God, you silly, silly man; they were all your back columns and news stories, and you don’t have any other hard copy records left if they were ever needed.” I hadn’t though of that, of course, and I have regretted the move for the past ten years, as I have needed those archives hundreds of times since the great cleanse.

     I am now trying to save what’s left of a long journey-man’s writing odyssey. It is, I suppose, a Christmas gift to myself, and maybe to my family, down the road, when someone else asks them whether or not they read what their good old dad pens here and there; that even mentions them occasionally, but only in the best, kindest and brightest light. I practice self criticism and that’s the way I like to write. Here now are a few notes of Christmas past, that have survived my mostly shredded archives. It’s in the spirit of this contemporary Christmas season; not just a dusty reminder of why we should always clean up our archives. Just don’t through them out. That’s no wise.

WINTER IN MUSKOKA - THOMAS MCMURRAY PUBLISHED THE POEM "THE SLEIGH RIDE," IN 1871

FIRST MUSKOKA HISTORIAN, POET, AUTHOR, RESPONSIBLE FOR THE DISTRICT'S FIRST BOOK "MUSKOKA AND PARRY SOUND"

     I'VE GIVEN MYSELF UNTIL JANUARY 2ND, TO GET ALL THE REGIONAL HISTORY I'VE BEEN KEEPING ON THE BACKBURNER, OUT IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN. AT THAT TIME, I WILL BE CHANGING MY BLOG FORMAT ONCE AGAIN, BUT THIS TIME, IT WILL BE MORE ACUTELY FOCUSED ON ANTIQUES, COLLECTABLES, AND RELICS OF LOCAL SIGNIFICANCE, WE DEAL WITH DAILY IN OUR ANTIQUE SHOP. IT DOESN'T MEAN I WON'T STRAY FROM TIME TO TIME, BUT I'VE CERTAINLY GROWN WEARY OF POLITICAL RANTS. AS I POINTED OUT BEFORE, WRITING GENERAL BLOGS TO APPEAL TO A DIVERSE AUDIENCE, SPREAD INTERNATIONALLY OVER MANY COUNTRIES, IS BECOMING A REAL TIME CONSUMING CHORE. AND WHEN I SUGGEST MY AUDIENCE IS INTERNATIONAL, THIS MEANS THAT THERE ARE MANY MUSKOKA EX-PATRIOTS SPREAD OUT ALL OVER THE WORLD, AND THEY'VE BEEN CHECKING ME OUT FOR THESE PAST THREE YEARS. THE PROBLEM FOR ME, IS THAT WORK AT OUR SHOP HAS BEEN TRUMPING BLOG TIME, AND SUZANNE, MY WIFE AND BUSINESS PARTNER, IS A RUTHLESS BOSS AND APPARENTLY, I'M EVEN LOWER ON THE CORPORATE LADDER THAN MY SONS ON THE MUSIC SIDE OF THE ENTERPRISE. SO I DO NEED TO PARE DOWN THE BLOGS TO A MORE MANAGEABLE ROAR, IF IT CAN BE SAID I ROAR AT ALL. I LOVE WRITING BLOGS, AND ESPECIALLY ABOUT REGIONAL HISTORY, BUT QUITE A NUMBER OF READERS ARE GETTING TIRED OF MY LIMITED RANGE OF STORIES EACH DAY. THIS MORNING, SUZANNE HAD ME CLEANING OUR NEWEST ACQUISITIONS, AND MAKING REPAIRS TO SOME PIECES MISSING SCREWS, AS WELL AS PRICING BOOKS AND THREE GREAT ART PIECES, WE FOUND OUT ON OUR ANTIQUE TOUR ON SUNDAY. GETTING TO THE BLOG-WRITING PART KEEPS GETTING LATER IN THE DAY. SUZANNE WILL LET ME WRITE, IF IT'S ABOUT WHAT WE DO IN THE ANTIQUE TRADE; INCLUDING ME WRITING A BLOG ABOUT PUTTING THREE SCREWS INTO AN OLD "COUNTRY FAIR" BEAN-BAG-TOSS GAME, MADE OUT OF VINTAGE PLYWOOD. IT WOULDN'T BE A VERY INTERESTING STORY THAT'S FOR SURE, SO I'M GOING TO HAVE TO BEEF IT UP, AND WRITE A LITTLE MORE ABOUT OUR ANTIQUE BOOKS AND VINTAGE PAINTINGS. THE ANTIQUE BUSINESS IS PRETTY EXCITING TRUTH BE KNOWN, AND IS FULL OF ALL KINDS OF ADVENTURES, AND MORE THAN A FEW WAYWARD SPIRITS. I THINK I CAN MUSTER SOME ROADSHOW STORIES TO INFORM AND ENTERTAIN READERS. THERE MAY BE A TIME WHEN WE ACQUIRE A LARGE COLLECTION OF REGIONAL HISTORY, IN THE FORM OF JOURNALS, DOCUMENTS AND PHOTOGRAPHS, WHICH I WILL OF COURSE SHARE WITH READERS. AS FOR BLOGGING ABOUT REGIONAL HISTORY, AND WHINING ABOUT THE CONDUCT OF OUR ELECTED OFFICIALS, I WILL BE TAKING A HIATUS; MAYBE FOREVER, IF SEMI-RETIREMENT FEELS GOOD. IT'S WHY IT FELT REAL GOOD TODAY, TO MEET A YOUNG MAN WHO HAS SOME HISTORICAL ZEAL, AND A PASSION FOR THE OUTDOORS. HERE'S AN OVERVIEW OF A CASUAL CHAT, THAT MADE A TIRED, CRUSTY OLD HISTORIAN, FEEL A LITTLE MORE COMFORTABLE ABOUT REINFORCEMENTS COMING DOWN THE PIKE, IN THE MISSION TO CONSERVE OUR HERITAGE.

     I HAD A WONDERFUL CHAT WITH AN ENTHUSIASTIC, VIGOROUS YOUNG CHAP TODAY, HERE AT OUR GRAVENHURST SHOP, ABOUT SOME OF THE POINTS OF FASCINATION, WE BOTH SHARE ABOUT MUSKOKA AND CANADIAN HISTORY. IT IS RARE THESE DAYS, TO FIND THOSE OF THE YOUNGER GENERATION, INTERESTED IN HISTORICAL SLEUTHING, AND THE HUNTING AND GATHERING OF RELICS FROM A BYGONE ERA. IN THREE YEARS RUNNING THIS ANTIQUE SHOP, ON THE MAIN STREET OF GRAVENHURST, HE IS THE FIRST, IN FACT, IN THE "YOUNGER THAN AGE SIXTY" GROUPING, WHO ENJOYED CHATTING AND EVEN DEBATING THE HISTORICAL FACTS, ABOUT HOW MUSKOKA WAS SETTLED BACK IN THE 1850'S AND 60'S. IN A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME, WE TALKED ABOUT EVERYTHING FROM THE HISTORIC FUR TRADE, TO THE EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF THE TOURISM INDUSTRY IN MUSKOKA. SOMETIMES THIS IS THE MOST FRUSTRATING ASPECT OF BEING A REGIONAL HISTORIAN IN MUSKOKA; THE FACT THAT THERE ARE SO FEW UP AND COMING HISTORIANS, TO FILL THE VOID WHEN US GNARLY OLD FARTS EITHER RETIRE OR LEAVE THIS MORTAL COIL ENTIRELY. IT IS A TROUBLESOME CONSIDERATION, BECAUSE WE HAVE A WEALTH OF ARCHIVES MATERIAL CONSERVED, IN THIS REGION, BUT WE ALSO NEED A MORE YOUTHFUL BAND OF ARCHIVIST / HISTORIANS, TO TAKE THE REIGNS WHEN WE RETIRE OR GO TO OUR HEAVENLY REWARD. I'VE BEEN WRITING ABOUT THIS FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS. WHO WILL REPRESENT OUR PAST, IN THIS REGION, WHEN THOSE WHO HAVE DEDICATED MANY YEARS OF THEIR LIVES TO HISTORICAL PRESERVATION, BUY THE PROVERBIAL FARM IN THE SKY? I'M NOT SO BOLD AS TO HAVE WRESTLED THIS YOUNG MAN TO THE FLOOR, TO HANDCUFF HIM TO A PROFESSION I ADORE, BUT BECAUSE THESE HERITAGE ENTHUSIASTS ARE SO FEW, AND THE PROSPECTS SO BLEAK TO SECURE EAGER REPLACEMENTS, SURELY YOU CAN'T BLAME ME, FOR TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF OPPORTUNITY. OR FOR THROWING OUT THE CONUNDRUM WE'RE FACING IN OUR LOOSELY KNIT HISTORICAL FEDERATION, JUST IN CASE HE MIGHT BE OPEN TO SUGGESTION. IT MAY NOT SEEM LIKE A BID DEAL, BUT IT IS, ESPECIALLY RESTING ON THE REALITY WE HISTORIANS, AND WE MAKE NO APOLOGY EITHER, HAVE OUR STAUNCH OPINIONS ABOUT THE THEORY OF HOW IT ALL CAME TO FRUITION. LIKE SNOWFLAKES, NO TWO HISTORIANS ARE THE SAME. WE CAN BE VEHEMENTLY OPPOSED TO THE OTHER, AND OPINE WITH FIERCE CONVICTION, ABOUT BEING RIGHT ON A MATTER OF PHILOSOPHY.....WHICH MAY BE THE SPARK OF A HISTORIAN'S RIOT, IF IT HIT THE RIGHT POWDER KEG AT THE PERFECT MOMENT FOR IGNITION. SO EACH OF US LOOKS TO THE FUTURE WITHOUT UNDERSTUDIES, AND PONDERS OVER THE MORNING BOWL OF GRUEL, WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO THEIR CONVICTIONS IN THE FUTURE. IT'S WHY WE PUBLISH SO MUCH IN OUR LIVES, AND MAKE COPIOUS NOTES CONSTANTLY, TO ENSURE OUR STAKE IN THE HERITAGE DEBATE. SO THIS IS HOW I COMMENCE MY DAY, AFTER THE GRUEL THAT IS, AND IT WAS NICE TO FIND OUT, THAT LOW AND BEHOLD, THERE IS A YOUNG PERSON, COMMITTED TO THE CAUSE OF HISTORICAL CONSERVATION, AND HERITAGE PROMOTION. HE'S ALREADY INVOLVED IN NATURAL HERITAGE IDENTIFICATION AND CONSERVATION, SO IT'S A PERFECT FIT FOR ME, TO CARRY IT A STEP FURTHER, AS A FUTURE REGIONAL HISTORIAN. HEY, WE CAN HOPE CAN'T WE? I WAS IMPRESSED TO FIND A KINDRED SPIRIT WHO IS THE AGE OF MY YOUNGEST SON; WHO BY THE WAY, DECIDED MUSIC WAS MUCH MORE FUN THAN THE PURSUIT OF OLD STUFF, AND READING MUSTY, DUSTY OLD RECORDS FOR THE FUN OF IT. I CAN'T BLAME HIM. IT TAKES A SPECIAL PERSON, TO TAKE HISTORY THIS SERIOUSLY. I HOPE I DIDN'T SCARE OFF THIS GENTLEMAN WITH MY ROBUST ENTHUSIASM. IN THE HISTORICAL PROFESSION, HONESTLY, WE DON'T GET "FRESH FISH" VERY OFTEN, AND WHEN WE DO, WE'RE THEN SORRY TO FIND OUT, THE VISITOR MADE A LEFT TURN INSTEAD OF A RIGHT, AND LEAVES US AS WE WERE; WONDERING ABOUT THE NEXT GENERATION OF STEWARDS TO KEEP OUR CANADIAN HERITAGE IN GOOD AND SAFE HANDS.

     AS I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT AT GREAT LENGTH, IN PAST BLOGS, THOMAS MCMURRAY WROTE A HOMESTEADER'S GUIDEBOOK, IN THE EARLY 1870'S, THAT WAS FAR MORE OPTIMISTIC AND FAVORABLE, WHEN IT CAME TO THE ADVICE GIVEN TO NEWLY ARRIVED EMIGRANTS, IN CANADA, ABOUT THE CONDITIONS TO BE EXPECTED IN MUSKOKA. HIS BRAND OF POSITIVISM, SOME OF IT BASED ON HIS OWN VESTED INTERESTS, AS A PIONEER MUSKOKA BUSINESSMAN, AVOIDED MANY NEGATIVE ASPECTS OF WHAT COULD BE EXPECTED, FOR ILL PREPARED EMIGRANTS, TO TURN THICK WOODLANDS INTO AGRICULTURAL HOMESTEADS. HE DIDN'T OFFER SERIOUS AND DETAILED EXPLANATIONS ABOUT THE REGION'S INHOSPITABLE TERRAIN, THE ROCK, SWAMPS, THICK PINE FORESTS, LAKES AND RIVERS, HAVING TO BE BYPASSED AND BRIDGED, AND THE REALITY, MUSKOKA WAS KNOWN AS HAVING THIN, ARABLE SOIL ON ROCK. MCMURRAY, LIKE A LOT OF OTHER AUTHORS AND GUIDEBOOK PUBLISHERS, DIDN'T LET NEGATIVES GET IN THE WAY OF SELLING THEIR BOOKS, TO EAGER URBAN DWELLERS OF EUROPE, WHO MIGHT HAVE THOUGHT CANADA, IN THE 1850'S, WAS A GARDEN OF EDEN, WITH ALL ITS NATURAL ATTRIBUTES. THESE HOMESTEAD BOOKS WERE GENERALLY DESIGNED TO ENCOURAGE THE FOLLOW-THROUGH OF SETTLEMENT, TO AID THE CANADIAN GOVERNMENT'S EXPANSION PLANS, TO OCCUPY THE UNSETTLED LANDS OF THIS COUNTRY, FROM SEA TO SEA. THIS WOULD JUSTIFY THE BUILDING OF THE TRANSCONTINENTAL RAILWAY, AND SHOW THE AMERICAN EXPANSIONISTS THAT CANADA WAS SETTLED UPON, AND NOT OPEN FOR ANY MOVE, ON THEIR PART, TO THE NORTH WEST.

     THE INTERESTING CHARACTERISTIC ABOUT THOMAS MCMURRAY, IS THAT WITH HIS BIASED REPORTING ON THE DISTRICT, FROM HIS OWN EXPERIENCES OF THE 1860'S, WHEN THE INHABITANTS OF THE REGION NUMBERED ONLY SEVERAL THOUSAND AT MOST, HE ALSO BACKED THESE SKETCHY OPINIONS UP, WITH HIS ROMANTIC AND POETIC OVERVIEWS OF THE LOGGING INDUSTRY, NATURAL RESOURCES, LIKE "THE GREAT FALLS," ON THE SOUTH BRANCH OF THE MUSKOKA RIVER (MUSKOKA FALLS) AND SUCH SOCIAL / RECREATIONAL ENTERPRISES, AS THE WINTER-SEASON SLEIGH RIDE. WHAT I FIND WRONG WITH MCMURRAY'S APPROACH, WAS THAT IT MADE MUSKOKA SEEM MUCH MORE ACCOMMODATING THAN IT WAS AT THE TIME. THE POEMS, WHILE A NICE TOUCH FOR A MUSKOKA OVERVIEW, WERE NOT APPROPRIATE, ATTACHED TO THE RATHER SERIOUS BUSINESS OF INFLUENCING HOMESTEADERS, TO CHOOSE THIS REGION TO SETTLE, AND CARVE-OUT THEIR HUMBLE HOMESTEADS INTO THE PINE WOODS. IT GAVE A LESS THAN SERIOUS PROFILE, TO THE REGION, KNOWN FOR ITS HARSH, LONG WINTERS, SHORT GROWING SEASONS, AND TOPOGRAPHY CHALLENGES, OF WETLANDS, HILLS, ROCK OUTCROPPINGS AND THICK FORESTS. I DON'T REALLY BELIEVE POTENTIAL SETTLERS, WERE SOLD ON TAKING UP HOMESTEAD LAND GRANTS IN MUSKOKA, BECAUSE OF A POEM ABOUT "SLEIGHING" ACROSS THE FROZEN TERRAIN; BUT WITH THE HARD ISSUES FACING EMIGRANTS, THE POETRY IS OUT OF PLACE IN TEXT THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HELP SETTLERS GET A GOOD START ON THEIR ACREAGES.

     ON THE OTHER HAND, MCMURRAY HAS ENSURED THAT WE CULTURAL HISTORIANS, HAVE SOME EARLY-SETTLEMENT-YEARS' FOLK HISTORY TO WORK WITH, AND BEING POETRY, IT'S JUST FINE FOR OUR PURPOSES. HERE NOW ARE SOME OF THE VERSES OF "THE SLEIGH RIDE," CIRCA 1871, BUT IT WAS LIKELY WRITTEN MUCH EARLIER. IT'S INTERESTING TO NOTE, AT LEAST FOR A HERITAGE SLEUTH LIKE ME, THAT MCMURRAY WAS EMOTIONALLY STIRRED BY THE BEAUTY OF THE REGION, AS IT APPEARED IN THE 1860'S. IT REPRESENTS THE FIRST SERIOUS FOLK HISTORY NOTATIONS ABOUT LIFE IN MUSKOKA, SO WHILE THEY MIGHT NOT HAVE INFLUENCED SETTLERS TO A GREAT DEGREE, THEY SHOULD STIR US NOW; BECAUSE THESE ARE REFLECTIONS OF WHAT IT WAS LIKE HERE BEFORE FORESTS WERE STRIPPED, AND HAMLETS WERE TURNED INTO BUSTLING TOWNS. THESE ARE IMPORTANT INSIGHTS ABOUT SOCIAL / CULTURAL / RECREATIONAL OPINION, AT A TIME WHEN VERY FEW PIONEERS WERE KEEPING JOURNALS, OR WRITING POETRY.

     NOW IN THE WORDS OF THOMAS MCMURRAY, "THE SLEIGH RIDE": (IN PARAGRAPH FORMAT)

     "CALM IS THE NIGHT, AND CLEAR AND BRIGHT, THE SILVER MOON IS SHEDDING A FLOOD OF LIGHT O'ER THE SNOW SO WHITE, AND ON ICY GLORY SPREADING; THE EARTH LOOKS FAIR AS A DREAM OF LOVE, IN MISTY LIGHT THE MOON DOES LEND HER, AND THE STARRY VAULT OF BLUE ABOVE, IN SPARKLING BRIGHT WITH A FROSTY SPLENDOUR. SWIFTLY WE BOUND O'ER THE FROZEN GROUND, GAILY, JOYOUSLY, CHEERILY; AND OUR THOUGHTS KEEP TIME TO THE MUSICAL CHIME, OF THE SLEIGH BELLS TINKLING MERRILY. FOR OUR HEARTS ARE ATTUNED TO THE PLEASING STRAINS, OF GLADNESS, GLEE AND INNOCENT MIRTH; AND WE FEEL, THO' SIN HAS MADE DARK STAINS, YET HAPPINESS LINGERS STILL ON EARTH.

     "IN WRAP AND RUG, RIGHT WARM AND SNUG, ALL CARE TO THE WINDS WE FLING; AND LAUGH AND SONG, AS WE SPEED ALONG, MAKE THE SILENT FOREST RING, THE DISTANT OWL OUR VOICES HEARS, AND SCREAMS FROM HIS DARK AND LONELY DELL, IN ANSWER TO OUR JOYOUS CHEERS, A DISCORDANT, WILD, UNEARTHLY YELL. FASTER WE GO O'ER THE FROZEN SNOW, FROM OUR HORSES' FEET IS FLYING; THE ECHOES LONG REPEAT OUR SONG, FOR IN THE DISTANCE DYING. OUR JOYOUS BREASTS EXULTING BOUND, AND UTTERANCE FIND IN GLEEFUL VOICE, TILL ROCKS, AND HILLS, AND DALES RESOUND, AND EVEN THE GLOOMY WOODS REJOICE.

     "OUR SLEIGH NOW GLIDES WHERE THE RIVER HIDES, UNDER THE ICE BRIDGE STRONG, WHERE DEEP AND LOW THE WATERS FLOW, SO SILENTLY ALONG. AND NOW IT IS PAST, AND ON WE ROAM, BY THE FROZEN LAKE, A SNOWY PLAIN, PAST THE GLEAMING LIGHTS OF THE SETTLER'S HOME, AND AWAY THROUGH THE LONELY WOOD AGAIN. THE FALLS! IT IS THEY! WE CAN SEE THE SPRAY THAT THE SEETHING WATERS TOSS, LIKE A GLITTERING CLOUD O'ER THAT FOAMING FLOOD; AND NOW, AS THE BRIDGE WE CROSS, ITS ECHOING THUNDERS LOUDER GROW, CHECKED IS OUR NOISY MIRTH AND SONG, AND WE STOP AND GAZE WHERE FAR BELOW THE ROARING TORRENT ROARS ALONG. THE TREES THAT STAND ON EITHER HAND, ARE HUNG WITH ICE DROPS FAIR - WITH GEMS OF LIGHT AND JEWELS BRIGHT, AND DAZZLING CRYSTALS RARE; - REFLECTING BACK EACH TWINKLING STAR, WITH A SPARKLING BEAUTY RICH AND GRAND - A GLITTERING SCENE, SURPASSING FAR, OUR WILDEST DREAMS OF FAIRY LAND.

     "WHEN SWIFTLY PAST, IN THE ROARING BLAST, THE FROST KING SWEEPS IN HIS PRIDE, HIS ICY FORM THE RAGING STORM, AND THE MANTLING SNOW WREATH HIDES. AND UNSEEN SPIRITS THE WAY PREPARE, WHEREVER HIS ROYAL FEET WOULD GO, WITH DAZZLING CARPETS, WHITE AND FAIR, AND THE CRYSTAL BRIDGE WHERE WATERS FLOW. I LOVE THE CLINK, ON THE FROZEN RINK, OF THE SKATER'S IRON HEEL, THE MERRY HUZZA OF THE BOYS AT PLAY, WITH THEIR SLEDS, ON THE SLIPPERY HILL; THE LONG, LONG NIGHTS, BY THE BRIGHT FIRE-SIDE, IN THE JOYOUS HOME WHERE HAPPINESS DWELLS; AND BEST OF ALL, THE MERRY SLEIGH-RIDE, AND THE MUSICAL CHIME OF THE TINKLING BELLS."

     THIS MAY NOT HAVE BEEN A FREQUENTLY (OR EVER) RECITED POEM, BY THOSE SETTLERS LIVING, AT THE TIME, IN THEIR DRAFTY LOG SHANTIES, WATCHING THE SNOW FROM THE BLIZZARD RAGING OVER THE LANDSCAPE, DUSTING DOWN THROUGH THE INTERIOR OF THE DWELLING. BUT MCMURRAY WAS A DIE-HARD ROMANTIC, AND BECAUSE HE INCLUDED THESE LINES, MADE A DISTINCT NOTIFICATION FOR MUSKOKA'S POSTERITY, TO HISTORIANS EVER-AFTER, THAT SOCIAL / CULTURAL / RECREATIONAL HERITAGE IS JUST AS IMPORTANT AS THE HARD FACTS OF COMMUNITY BUILDING AND LOCAL POLITICAL / ECONOMIC MILESTONES.

THE WINTER OF 1883 AND A PIONEER ARTIST'S OBSERVATION

     "I am happy to say we have safely arrived at last, after being on the journey on the cars (train), and in the sleigh, from Tuesday evening until Saturday morning. We have just been two days short of three weeks, since we left home (England); but it has been very nice and pleasant. I didn't seem to mind the jolting of the train nearly as much as usual. I suppose it was the dreadful shaking up we had on the 'Sarmation,' (steamship from England to Canada) in the storm. We landed at Halifax on Tuesday, and got straight into a pullman (rail car). There was quite a happy little party of us from the ship, and no strangers; about half a dozen young men and Mrs. Hooper (my cabin-mate) and I. We had the train to ourselves. There was only the Pullman and the mails and the luggage, so it was very cosy and select, and we were quite like brothers and sisters together, after the rough time we had at sea, and we walked about and talked. (pioneer artist, Ada Florence Kinton was in her mid twenties at the time of this venture to Muskoka). We stopped at meal-time at different stations, and ate steadily for twenty minutes. At Montreal we changed cars, and from there to Toronto we met with all sorts of disasters. Amongst other things we got snowed-up and had to wait patiently till we could be dug-out; that was in fifteen hours. It was breakfast time when we started, and happily we had a dining car attached. Eddy (her brother from Huntsville) teased me so, about eating sausages at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour.

     "Then we met a freight train off the track and had to wait for that. Then we heard there was a bad collision ahead of us. That took a long time to clear the track - two freight trains off the track - they had run right into and over one another. Next our tender broke, and we had to wait till we could get a fresh engine - which was five hours. Then we got to Gravenhurst, and I had my first sleigh drive. I suppose I shall never forget it. The horses frisked and skipped along like kittens, and their long tails and manes waved about so prettily. And oh! The 'tintinnabulation of the bells,' and the snow and the forest and the quiet midnight.

     "Twenty-six miles' sleigh-ride from Bracebridge to Huntsville. Supper at a little hotel; everyone silent, mutually afraid to speak. Don't want to show I'm an Englander. Sleigh again. Almost opprest with the beauty of winter forest. Scenery gaunt and fantastic in the twilight. Saw grim, weird forms; wondered if there are any Canadian ghosts. Nice to look up, up, up, by the trunks of the slender, towering trees, and see the pale grey clouds lighted by the snow beneath. Strange, lovely sleigh-ride, packed tight between Ed and the driver, the stars winking at us; the silent trees; the bush-swamps; Lake Vernon, Huntsville; home in distance. Began to feel utterly done-up, and began to cry, but had to quit it! Could not manage it and struggle through the snow at the same time. Arrived at the gate panting and gasping. Heard my brother Mackie's voice again. Kissed kitty; to agitated to sleep; wake at last in my warm cosy wooden room. Struck with the amount of comfort in this little Canadian village in the midst of the bush."

     The passages above, were taken from the published journal entitled "Just One Blue Bonnet," the story of artist, and Salvation Army missionary Ada Florence Kinton, circa the 1880's. It's interesting to note, that it was Ada Kinton, who first asked the question "are there any Canadian ghosts", while traveling north through the Muskoka countryside, deep in winter snow, transported in a horse-drawn sleigh from Gravenhurst to Huntsville. The rail line at that point, ended in Gravenhurst, and it wouldn't until 1885 that it was linked to Bracebridge.