We are truly into autumn now as October is knocking at the door. Everywhere you look the leaves are turning brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows and falling to the ground with every breeze that passes by. We’ve had several very dry months so, like wizened old people, they are wrinkled, dry and crispy. Nevertheless, they are still beautiful in the fall colours.
It’s been a busy few days. On Saturday, I went to a presentation by Maurice Henri about using photography as a tool for emotional healing. It was held at the John Fisher Memorial Museum in Kingston and well attended by enthusiasts like myself. The drive there was beautiful as I crept along the Lower Norton Shore Road with a brief stop at Red Rock.
The road runs close to the Kennebecasis River where the marsh grass predominates due to the low water levels.
When I left the presentation I intended to take the Gondola Point Ferry across the river to Quispamsis and on to the highway, but the lineup of cars waiting to board stretched well past the designated waiting area, so I turned around and came home via the back roads.
Today is the last day of September. On my way to observe the Truth and Reconciliation Day event at Leonard’s Gate in Sussex I had to stop and snap a shot of the four hot air balloons floating blissfully over the valley on this beautiful, calm day. It was perfect for them. Barely a breeze.
It was a most informative event and quite well attended. I learned that it is most likely that the first Residential School for Indigenous children was probably right here in “Sussex Vale”. It is appalling how those children and their families were treated and a period of history that everyone needs to learn about. It was gratifying to see some families with children among the audience members. Hopefully, they’ll remember what they heard.
Kudos to the organizers who worked hard to put this together with posters outlining the history, artifacts like this old window from the original school, etc. Near the end of the presentation members of the committee took turns emotionally reading out, for the first time EVER, the names of many of the indigenous children who had been in the schools and treated as indentured servants, virtually slaves, as they worked on the farms and in the homes of the Loyalist settlers. They suffered mistreatment at the hands of the very people who were claiming to protect them and when they died, most were buried in unmarked graves.
Capturing Cherished Memories 