Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
Ice huts sit placidly prepared for fishing over the ice-and-snow blanketed Ottawa River benignly bordering the capital city of Canada. This is an immense waterway, one of the watery giants of this natural-resource-blessed country.
Where once sturdy voyageurs determinedly began the history we now barely recall, labouring mightily to transport furs and virgin-cut forests along its tumultuous length.
Where now towns and cities flourish across provinces of the founding nations. Ever at odds over language and culture and rare entitlements, whereas the river knows its useful place in the traditions of the country.
The mighty Chaudiere Rapids harnessed for electrical energy roil still though their vast power has been constrained, stilled in the interests of civilization's needs. Lest we forget it references long centuries-value of history.
Vast open stretches ripple ferociously under the dark winter sky, the water an angry grey reflection of the upper atmosphere that informs its tempestuous temperament.
On the river's banks immense old willows and elms spread their dark, empty branches. Crows soar the windless pewter bowl of the lowering winter sky. On its banks
sit the seat of government, the country's Gothic-inspired stone-mounted and Gargoyle-carved edifice of the Parliament Buildings, its clock tower steepling the sky.
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