"Oh Canada"

vTrail Wood #45 Earl Plato

Edwin Teale wrote this in his log the first week at Trail Wood.
“ Glowing light is all around me as I walk out into he misty dawn. Minute by minute the silvery sheen grows brighter as the sun climbs among the treetops. Trees and bushes beside the brook are shrouded and indistinct. From somewhere among them, unseen, a small bird gives voice to a strain pure, clear, pensive, touched with sadness, as though with overtones of some age-old lament. It is the song that has been put into the words: “ Oh Canada, Canada, Canada” - the song of the white-throated sparrow. That song of the white-throated sparrow, the song that among all the voices of the birds affect me most deeply.”
Writer’s note: Thank you Edwin. As a Canadian who walked some of he paths of Trail Wood I am glad that bird’s song imprinted you with those words, “Canada.” Thanks.
“Such dawns as this perhaps reminding the little singer of the misty forests of its northern home, always seem to stimulate the singing of the whitethroat.”

“ Glowing light is all around me as I walk out into he misty dawn. Minute by minute the silvery sheen grows brighter as the sun climbs among the treetops. Trees and bushes beside the brook are shrouded and indistinct. From somewhere among them, unseen, a small bird gives voice to a strain pure, clear, pensive, touched with sadness, as though with overtones of some age-old lament. It is the song that has been put into the words: “ Oh Canada, Canada, Canada” - the song of the white-throated sparrow. That song of the white-throated sparrow, the song that among all the voices of the birds affect me most deeply.”
Writer’s note: Thank you Edwin. As a Canadian who walked some of he paths of Trail Wood I am glad that bird’s song imprinted you with those words, “Canada.” Thanks.
“Such dawns as this perhaps reminding the little singer of the misty forests of its northern home, always seem to stimulate the singing of the whitethroat.”