Thunder and the Strawberry moon

It was when my son Luc pointed to the waters of a nearby lagoon and brought my attention to a turtle he had spotted, that something important occurred to me; beginning at the centre, the pattern on the shells of most turtles have thirteen scales or scutes as they are called. For the Ahkwesahsne of nearby Tyendinaga and many other First Nations cultures, this number of scutes represents the 13 moons of the lunar calendar.

In the western world, our calendars mark off time in 24 hour bits, whereas the lunar calendar’s messages are expressions of a people closely connected to nature. To differentiate each of the names of the full moons denotes what takes place in the natural cycle; if you lived near rivers or lakes, the August full moon was called the Sturgeon Moon; if your community was in the interior it would likely be known as the Green Corn Moon. The lunar calendar is pertinent in a timeless way, which is why I subscribe to its metaphorical meanings of relevance to my surrounds; the lunar calendar tells me more about the place of the earth in its rotations and of the seasons than just a number printed in Italic Bold font on a conventional calendar.

I mean really, in the era we are in where the environment is at the top of the agenda and not to be marking nature’s rhythms and instead we’re guided by Roman time and some long forgotten Pope’s idea of marking the days as the Gregorian calendar denoting Julius Caesar’s concepts of Roman gods and leaders? No wonder we’re out of touch with the natural world. The western calendar’s month of June is after Juno, wife of Jupiter; no mention of Jupiter’s ex since July is named for Julius himself?

All of the above is why I’m happy to conjure the month of June as the Strawberry Moon; also significant is the fact that July hosts the Full Hay Moon. The metaphors are easy to relate to, which is why the lunar calendar hangs above my desk; so, back to the turtle in the lagoon off of Weller’s Bay.

Summer solstice and Father’s Day landed in unison this past Sunday and it seemed appropriate that we would walk a section of the Millennium Trail in the company of the most gentle of donkeys, Thunder. We began our walk at the Smokes Point Road intersect as it gave an opportunity for Thunder to check in once again with Wilburt, another rescue donkey who now makes his home at Thyme Again Farms.

Conrad Beaubien with his son, Luc, walk the Millennium Trail, with Thunder in tow.

From that point onwards we headed east, as it had been decided that trekking 6km to arrive at Salem Road near Consecon would complete a series of monthly walks that began in October past. The series was undertaken with the support of the County and private sponsorship and in conjunction with landscape architect Victoria Taylor, who heads up the not-for-profit organization, deRail. The group’s primary focus is to come behind creative endeavours that animate publicly owned landscapes such as our recently completed linear park—the Millennium Trail.

While the aspirations of the now completed initial series of Walking with Thunder included bringing attention to natural habitat and the lay of the land along the western section of the trail that borders Wellers Bay, of personal importance was electing to begin the walks as autumn and winter of 2020 approached, a decision made with the thought in mind of emotional stresses experienced by populations everywhere. The unknowns of a pandemic in combination with mental health challenges of winter months had culminated into a passage of endurance. Completing the fall/winter series on the day of the summer solstice was an offering to start anew. Summer solstice thus marked the beginning of a novel, standalone sequence of walks, Thunder and the Thirteen Moons.

After two hours of travel where Thunder had his first experience of standing on a beach in Wellers Bay; where wild strawberries, grape vines, Lady’s Slipper, Lobelia and Painted Cup abounded and where I counted twelve hidden creeks, part of a distinctive watershed that crosses under the trail section and feeds the bay, a small gathering waited at the Salem Road site to celebrate our arrival. With the support of the west end outlet of Picton Farm Supply, a screening of artist Nicholas Peat’s documentary, Walking with Thunder, was held for viewing by small rotating audiences.

To have achieved a long anticipated dream of trekking the outback in the company of a donkey continues to be rewarding and most fulfilling. I have found that there are teachings to be learned at each step. Getting to know Thunder and his brother Joe and the Fjord horse Micah, all rescue animals, offer an uplift of spirit thorough the darkest of times. There is an accepting and non-judgemental essence about animals; walking together, often alone and sometimes in the company of small human groups are reminders of how sharing stories, poetry and song reinforces the power of art, meditation qualities of walking and how attachment to animals is healing, benefiting all of humankind, regardless of borders.

The walks are also commemorations. The past Remembrance Day was honoured on the Consecon Bridge where trains once crossed as they left the County carrying young soldiers, some who would not return; Valentine’s was held around a fire and hot apple cider at the former Baldwin Mills site; winter solstice was marked by a lantern display and the moons were forever a moment to be reminded of ancestral peoples and the power, more relevant today than ever, of the turtle as the token of Mother Earth. The thirteen moons are teachings, teachings that have been present throughout the eras of human existence.