Concrete towers and asphalt roads dot my horizon. Land, as an organic, life-giving entity doesn’t seem to correlate with my 9-5 office job. I am a city girl. I’ve always lived in large urban centres, where pockets of land are set aside for recreation. My mind’s eye pictures the neighborhood dog park, the local playground, or my parents' front lawn, when I hear the word “land”. I’ve never had to gather crops or water fields, and my income has never been dependent on the weather.
However, when I think about the land of my country, Canada, a vastly different picture emerges. I see strength, families bundling up against -40 degree Manitoba blizzards without batting an eye. I ponder struggle, what are the true implications of the battle for Aboriginal treaty rights, a battle over the land and its resources. I envision beauty, friends sharing a day’s end in front of the most beautiful Saskatchewan sunset. And I contemplate conflict, is producing crude oil from Alberta’s tar sands really the greatest of environmental crimes?
I guess these few examples from my “home and native land” speak to the nature of land itself – a living, dynamic, complex organism. Forever giving and taking, being taken from and given to. And this realization is where, under fluorescent office light, I can find meaning. Because with this awareness comes a certainty that cannot be ignored. I must always respect my country and cherish her land. And I must never take my home for granted.
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