Story: Beaver Lake / Lac aux castors

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Lac aux castors, Mont-Royal: 45.5N -73.583333W

Jane Affleck via e-mail
Halifax - October 31, 2011

Sometimes it’s hard to give “Lake of the Beavers” its due. Knowing it was man-made, the lake was almost never the focus of a hike or bike to the top of the hill; instead, the lookout point on the south side was the destination. And the way the gravel path from the park’s access point on Chemin de la Côtes-des-Neiges curves through the trees to the right, away from the lake—it’s as though the route was designed to discourage visitors from stopping at the lake, leading them onward and upward to the chalet at the lookout point and the tangle of paths around the southwest peak. And yet, if the lake weren’t there, the space would be just another patch of grass, used by pic-nickers, ultimate Frisbee players, and pale, sunbathing hipsters. Towards the end of my eight years in Montreal, I might have started to realize there were parts of the city I hadn’t fully appreciated. One late afternoon in early summer, probably a Sunday, I walked up Peel Street, cut through the little switchback at the base of the mountain, and made my way around the east side to the lake. With a pink and lilac dusk tinting the sky beyond the trees and reflecting off the still surface of the lake, I sat on a bench and watched the other visitors. That time of day, most visitors had already packed up and started down the paths toward their homes. But a few small families and young couples, many of them first generation Canadians/Quebecers, lingered by the lake, speaking to each other in the languages of the countries they’d left not so long ago. They seemed at peace, laughing at each other’s jokes, playing with their children. Did they come often to the lake? Had it come to represent something to them about the new lives they’d chosen to lead? I myself was soon to pack and move away from Montreal, try to fit myself into a new city. Would I find such a place, as these new Canadians had found? And would I appreciate it once I found it?

 

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Story: Tea Lake / Lac Tea

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Tea Lake: 44.606818N, -63.575613W

Francesca via e-mail
Montreal - May 20, 2011

Coordinates: 44.606818, -63.575613
Other name: Purcell's Pond

Tea Lake is a tiny lake about 20 minutes outside of Halifax along Purcells Cove Road. It's unofficially called Tea Lake because minerals in the water have coloured the water like well-steeped tea.

Tea Lake Gypsy

Come and we go
Everyone’s a gypsy girl
Nowhere to go?
There’s a place we know called Tea Lake

Driving along the highway
Dapples washing over us
We’re on our way
To a little place we know called Tea Lake

Gypsy do the swirling dance
Brother she won’t need her clothes
Water colour of Red Rose
Sip the tea it’s delicious

Come and we go
Everyone’s a gypsy boy
Nowhere to go?
There’s a little place we know called Tea Lake

Diving beneath the water
Ripples washing over us
We’ve found our way
To a little place we know called Tea Lake

Gypsy do the swirling dance
Sister he won’t need his pose
Water colour of Red Rose
Sip the tea it’s delicious

 

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Story: Rawka Stream / Ruisseau Rawka

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Rawka Stream: 50.276937N, 19.024086W

Moniczka via form
Halifax, Nova Scotia - May 18, 2011

Coordinates: 50.276937N, 19.024086
Waypoints: Industrial area, nearest town is Katowice, Poland
Other names: Rawa, Roździanka (1737)

The story is about a stream that ran behind my grandmother's house. As a child I remember walking on a small roughly made bridge that crossed it. I always hesitated however because my mother always made a point to tell me to be very careful when playing by that stream. Years later, my mother told me a story of how she almost drowned in that very stream. She was walking alone near the edge and slipped. Thankfully one of the neighbors was looking out her window and ran to help; she jumped in and saved my mom. I always loved how my grandmother ended that story; the neighbor ripped her stockings in this ordeal and my grandmother had bought her a new pair. Sadly, the stream was filled over in recent years.

 

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Story: Lake Laurentian / Lac Laurentien

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Lake Laurentian: 46.458333N -80.933333W

Karen Hibbard via form
Winnipeg, Manitoba - May 3, 2011

Coordinates: 46.458333 -80.933333
Waypoints: The Laurentians in Sudbury. Roadside. Laurentian Lake. Suburbia. The University.

Summers swimming up near the University at Laurentian Lake, Sudbury, Ontario

My sisters and I would spend all summer walking between Laurentian Lake and our little suburban enclave where we lived as children. There were 4 of us. And we walked for a mile there and back, spending our day swimming in the sun. We didn't hurry along like we would now as adults. Of course you can't when you are just children, our bodies were still in development.

Walking along an isolated country road is something that children would not be allowed to do nowadays. There was nothing but bush. And drivers would race by from time to time, caught unawares that children were by the roadside. I was the oldest and always slightly worried about any trouble that could potentially appear.

We loved getting to the lake finally, dusty from the walk. If we were hungry, we'd fill up on blueberries and raspberries we saw peaking through the woods at us. Or we would vandalize the food machines at the University. Not that we were old enough to do any real damage besides maybe squeezing a sandwich out (if we were lucky). This is not really a story but more of a memory of a happy childhood spent independent of adults and as part of a sister gang with bonds that last to this day.

Now we are all grown up middle-aged women. Everyone is living in a different city. Some are single and others are married with children. There is very little time for communication and lots of worries about money and jobs and children. I have worries for the future — what will happen to our parents health-wise and how will we react as a unit? Will our sisterhood fall apart when our parents go? Are the bonds from our childhood really as strong as I imagine? Are they just valued memories for some of us?

Jumping in the lake as kids from a rock face seemed reckless but exciting. We knew the lake so well and had the good sense to investigate below the surface of the water beforehand. Free from all cares for that moment in time, we enjoyed each other's company and our natural surroundings. I would love to experience this innocent abandon again with my sisters. I hope our bonds will not be broken in our old age.

 

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Story: Lake Huron / Lac Huron

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Lake Huron: 44.8N -82.4W

Morgan James Hanam via form
Sydney, Nova Scotia - April 25, 2011

Coordinates: 44.8 -82.4

Where I lived as a child in Kincardine, Ontario, we were very close to a beach on Lake Huron. The Huron is important to me because it was the first major body of water that I was aware of. Its recession from the shore at the time (getting shallower and shallower each year) eventually made me aware that it had originally been over where my house was abutting a low cliff past the top of our subdivision — so that I became aware of deep time and geology at the tender age of seven.

I had many adventures along the shore — one I remember distinctly was in winter, the ice floes had piled up along the shore very thickly that year and extended out several dozen yards. I made my way out to the outermost floes and literally skipped along at the edge of the ice. This was a joyous act of daring but thinking back on it now I was very lucky.

 

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Story: Simon River / Rivière-à-Simon

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Rivière-à-Simon: 45.9N -74.25W

Paul Meillon via form
Montreal - April 23, 2011

Coordinates: 45.9 -74.25

A beautiful nude goddess, floating down the river, her red curly hair mixing with the undulating lemna minor, while I film, enchanted.

 

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Story: Lake Simcoe / Lac Simcoe

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Lake Simcoe: 44.4366677N -79.339167W

Paul Meillon via form
Montreal - April 23, 2011

Coordinates: 44.4366677 -79.339167

Fishing at night with square nets and lamps at the Orillia lake, quite the adventure! Wiggling slimy silver gleaming in the night.

 

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Story: Rouyn Lake / Lac Rouyn

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Lac Rouyn: 48.233333N -79.016667W

Paul Stavert via form
Montreal - April 23, 2011

Coordinates: 48.233333 -79.016667

Eternal summer days of youth, where the infinite mystery of the world revealed itself in blue crystalline sandy lakes, surrounded by pines, and the strange undulating movement of leeches.

 

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Story: Abitibi Lake / Lac Abitibi

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Abitibi Lake: 44.666667N -79.75W

Paul Stavert via form
Montreal - April 23, 2011

Coordinates: 48.666667, -79.75

I remember in my youth swimming in the freezing Canadian lakes in Abitibi. I was surprised how glacial waters, with a habituation phase, could turn mildly warm! Also the stories of how a kid at the daycamp, who had a phobia of water, fell in after his canoe was overturned. The autopsy showed he died of syncope, stopping of the heart from fear, not of drowning.

 

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Story: Panache Lake / Lac Panache (PA-1)

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Lac Panache: 45.5N -73.583333W

Nathalie Lapalme via form
Barrie, Ontario
April 17, 2011

My Lac Panache is a place I call Heaven. It's a place like no other in this entire world. My fondest memories of childhood were spent there with my family. It's a place that offers comfort, a sense of belonging, of love and beauty. A place I can go to unwind, truly relax, get away from the rush of everyday life. It's a place where you don't need an invitation, food tastes great, the water is BEAUTIFUL, the air is pure, the sauna is purifying and the company wonderful. The one place on this earth I would rather be. And I hope that my daughter will cherish this little bit of Heaven that has been generously shared with us over the years and I'd like to thank Grand-maman for making this beautiful place, a place we have been blessed to call our "camp". The giggles, laughter, stories and the memories, will last forever in my heart.

 

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Story: Mount-Royal / Mont-Royal (MO-1)

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Mount-Royal: 45.5N -73.583333W

Francesca via form
Montreal - April 16, 2011

It was a Sunday in early September of 2006. We could feel the first slight chill in the air but it was still warm enough for picnics, so we went up to the Mountain just in time for a late lunch. We spread our blanket on the grass near the gazebo, so we could still hear the tam tams and had a nice view of the volleyball nets. We had finished our meal of brie, baguette and apples when suddenly a little plane was coming down through the trees over Parc Avenue, heading south. It was completely silent, like an apparition. The wings tipped back and forth as we watched, as though it was trying to steady itself. It was a tense moment as we waited for it to land. There was no way to tell what would happen, if it would land smoothly or not. Miraculously the street was empty - the light across from the statue must have been red. We saw a man running toward the little plane and as it touched down, grabbing one of its wings to try to stop it. This somehow added to the strangeness of it all, watching him run hard to catch the plane and then place himself at the tip of the wing nearest us, running backwards now as he pushed in the opposite direction of the plane's trajectory, like Superman might have done, only with much less effect. It seemed foolish and futile, since who knew what was wrong with the plane, whether it might burst into flames, and trying to stop it manually was like trying to stop a small bus. Eventually he let go and the plane came to a stop a little way further down the road, only slightly sideways. By this time no one was playing drums anymore, or playing Frisbee, they all had run down to the street in amazement, wanting to see who the pilot was and if there were any passengers. We watched as two men and a boy got out on legs we could see were shaking from where we sat. Nobody was hurt and the plane seemed fine aside from an engine that stalled. Eventually the police arrived and cordoned off the area. We had never left our blanket as the scene played out and now we turned away from it towards each other and began recounting the story to ourselves, what we had seen and thought and felt, committing it to memory. Neither of us had a camera.

 

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Story: Panache Lake / Lac Panache (PA-1)

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Lac Panache : 45.5 N -73.583333 O

Gilles Lapalme via formulaire
Sudbury, Ontario - 16 avril 2011

Le chalet au Lac Panache: un petit paradis sur terre. Un gros merci à Maman et Papa de nous avoir laissé ce lieu si précieux. La famille est là depuis plus de 75 ans et nous avons de nombreux souvenirs de nos aventures, nos rencontres, nos joies, nos peines. Ça va être difficile cet été sans la douce présence de notre chère Maman.

 

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Story: Mount-Royal / Mont-Royal (MO-1)

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Lac aux castors, Mont-Royal: 45.5 N -73.583333W O

Richard Labrosse via formulaire
Montréal - 15 avril 2011

Caractéristiques de la région : Parc urbain, créé sur le Mont-Royal

Il y a sur le Mont-Royal plusieurs ruisseaux que je n'ai personnellement jamais vu. Par contre, mes parents m'amenaient au Lac aux Castors quand j'étais enfant. J'aurais voulu y faire flotter un petit voilier. Ça n'est jamais arrivé. On ne m'en a jamais offert. Nous allions toujours prendre une bouchée au chalet. C'était très agréable.

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Story: Mount-Royal / Mont-Royal (MO-1)

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Mont-Royal: 45.5 N -73.583333W O

Katerine-Lune Rollet via formulaire
Montréal - 6 avril 2011

J’ai hésité face à la montagne. Certains soirs d’été à la pénombre, je voyais des familles de ratons laveurs qui croisaient la rue.

 

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