Orpheus

Since his untimely departure on the opening day of the hunting season we have done our best to honour Felix's memory by taking to the field as often as possible. I suppose that everyone has their own way to grieve. Ours was to head west and walk about a hundred miles over the wind blown prairies of Saskatchewan and North Dakota. Nothing like a whole lot of nothing to clear the mind.

About 3 days into our wandering, at the top of a hill near Estevan we found a small rock pile. So we decided to take a break from chasing sharptailed grouse and grey partridges to choose a few stones to bring home with us. As we searched the pile for just the right rocks the lyrics of a beautiful song by David Sylvian came to mind.

Standing firm on this stony ground
The wind blows hard
Pulls these clothes around
I harbour all the same worries as most
The temptations to leave or to give up the ghost
I wrestle with an outlook on life
That shifts between darkness and shadowy light
I struggle with words for fear that they'll hear
But Orpheus sleeps on his back still dead to the world
Sleepers sleep as we row the boat
Just you, the weather, and I gave up hope
But all of the hurdles that fell in our laps
Were fuel for the fire and straw for our backs
Still the voices have stories to tell
Of the power struggles in heaven and hell
But we feel secure against such mighty dreams
As Orpheus sings of the promise tomorrow may bring