It wasn’t love at first sight. Your dark skies seemed to cry every time I saw you. But I gave you a chance because
I sensed another face behind your sharp angles. I suspected a part of myself in you.
Now I have seen your tears fill the rivers, lakes and streams. Olive and lime colors of lichen. You, mother of the wind, bring us fresh air to breathe. You lift our wings above the Chief, Howe Sound, Tantalus. We see your bounty of salmon in the trees topped with eagles. And in the belly of bears.
I hear the ancestors of the Squamish Nation when I pull my toque tight and walk the estuary. Their power and strength enter my lungs and feed my mind with songs of protection.
Your wandering trails, I have spent so much time. Hiking and biking to emerald lakes that help me float above my life, help me heal from today. You are where I meet people who possess a balance of recreation and responsibility, curiosity and roots. I swim beside paddleboards and cherry-red canoes, exchanging smiles and hellos, and reflections of softer angles.
And so your rain reveals rainbows, with the sun inside myself and each other. And after a day of play I go home, believing in us, Squamish.
Squamish nurse (RN)