Monday, October 18, 2010

A father's son, a runner, a singer/songwriter...and a very special evening.

There has been so little time for blogging recently, so little time for paddling, so little time to just "be", it would seem. That's OK though. The places where I have needed to devote time, energy, focus, and attention have been important and meaning-filled...and so there are never regrets.

We do, however, continue to run. 

The world, for the most part, is not up at 0545 hrs and the tasks of the day are still content to wait just a little longer. As we leave the house, the constellation Orion shines down on us from a zillion light years away. Sirius burns like an intense fire in the heavens. It is always a comfort. I remember, as a child, my mother and father pointing out the lights in the sky and sharing with me their names. I was blessed to have parents who encouraged me to be passionate about the world "outside" and, amongst other things, to search out and find companionship in the stars in the night sky.

It's cool in the morning these days. Today, when we headed out in the darkness, it was just 2 degrees C. My unshod feet felt the cold of the asphalt but soon they warmed up with the quick cadence and the sheer exhilaration of being outside. A family of three deer strolled down the road in front of us, content to share the darkness and the time and the space. A rabbit, nibbled on the long grass on the shoulder, understanding that we would quietly pass and offer no threat.

We both felt the residual warmth of a very special evening with Dan Hill. We had last seen him when he played a concert in Banff, where we were living, some twenty-five years ago now. Most folks know Dan for his deeply emotive recording, Sometimes When We Touch. Now, his long, dark hair and beard, are gone. He is a fit 55-year-old who continues to "touch", in his writing, in his introspective music, and in his "journey" as a son and as a father. He has earned five Juno Awards and a Grammy. His most recent album, Intimate, is powerful and it is poignant. And he is a passionate runner.

His book, I Am My Father's Son - a memoir of love and forgiveness, awaits us. It is about the complex relationship he had with his father, Dr. Daniel Hill, well known Canadian activist and the first director of the Ontario Human Rights Commission. At the end of the evening, we had the opportunity to speak briefly with him. He was warm, gentle, and engaging. If only there could have been more time, perhaps an opportunity to share with him a run in the early morning darkness. He's just one of those people that has a story that touches...we felt a connection - in so many ways - and were conscious of what we'd liked to have shared with him, had there only been more time.

We finished our morning run, the sun beginning to rise, with the steep hill back up to our home - thankful for the countless people in this world who have warmed, and continue to warm, our hearts and enrich our spirits. Over the years, there have been so many.

Each of you continues to make the world a better place.



  1. I love the stars that reside in the skies above our mountains. And I know what you mean when you speak of them as "companions". Gen.

  2. Sounds like a very enjoyable evening. As for the actually have me thinking about taking off my shoes....

  3. Quick, smooth cadence in the cool, early morning air - so what's not to love about that, eh?

  4.'re even making me think I should start my day with a brisk walk in the are a bad influence, Duncan!

  5. Hey everyone, thanks for stopping by, always enjoy your comments.

    Gen, we know what the stars are like where you are, they "sparkle" above the peaks.

    Go for it L, leaving the running shoes at home is another way of reliving your childhood - with no one to tell you what to do! :-)

    Hey BJJ, understood...completely!

    Gosh Jill, me? A bad influence? Thanks!


  6. I can only comment on each blog once so well, I guess you need to write something else soon. Blog away...any little thing will do.
    Your favourite follower!

  7. Thank you, Anon, perhaps just the encouragement needed.