The lovely folks at Molly Made gave me a jar of moose… in chunks. I can just see my Toronto, New York and London friends turning away in disgust, then turning back in curiousity. Chunky moose in a jar?
I found a little bakery selling fresh bread and Newfie eggs and have stopped at the edge of town – Parsson’s Pond – and fried up moose, then eggs and devoured it with (white!!) bread. My vegetarian, vegan, nutritionist, IIN, orthorexic friends by now have surely stopped reading and have deleted me from their facebook accounts. It was delicious, and so nourishing. Sitting here, highway traffic behind me (in Newfoundland that means more like a little-used country sideroad), watchingthe sun lower over the St. Lawrence, giddy with happiness, waving at the drivers behind me who look out their windows and feel a spark of envy. It’s so funny how little things like an evening picnic in the sun can ake you feel so alive, so happy, so fulfilled as a living creature on the earth. At least that’s how it makes me feel. Maybe it’s the moose in a jar.
Epiphany today: I visited l’Anse aux Meadows which officially marks the connection of the human race, the very spot where we circumnavigated the globe and ran into one another again – the natives of North America (the Innu, Innuit and/or Doret in the north) with the Vikings from Greenland. The epiphany was this: maybe it’s the natural state of human beings to be roamers, adventurers, explorers. Constantly on the quest for the next moose in a jar. For ages I’ve been wondering when will it be “right” to “settle down” as they say. For so many of the friends I grew up with, the answer to this question came early and immediately. I’m about to start my 30th cycle of the sun and despite setting foot on all continents (well, except Antartica) and living in major cities to small towns to sleepy countrysides, I still only feel at home while on the wander. Part of me wants this to change. The lure of regular yoga classes, a productive garden, reliable community of friends and moose….from the freezer(?!)… sounds so nice. Maybe even a house, a tree with roots. Looking at the Vikings this wasn’t natural for them. Nor was it for the native people of Canada. It’s only modern day man who have stopped wandering and looking across the ocean at the setting sun. Maybe the state I’m in is a natural one. Or maybe I’m just one of a dying breed who hasn’t evolved out of homelessness yet.