Summer Breeze and a Fresh Buffalo Pie
Our third adventure took us to Elk Island National Park. The park is located just 24km from Sherwood Park, my old home. We ventured out early in the morning, the sun was again shining, there was a slight breeze, and yet again, we had the car’s top down.
We ventured up the road to the Bison Loop. We made the turn onto the loop and immediately saw three Bison, one of which was a large male. We did not see much on our first tour here, but the weather was so incredibly beautiful, that we did not have a care in the world.
Elk Island Park brings back many a memory for me. I know you all have seen the photos posted to my photo section, especially of the ones playing in the Bison feces I am sure. If you have not bore witness to the photos, please, have a look. I was about eleven years old, and my brother was approximately eight. We were there with my mother running about the park. As young boys do, we were getting into our fair share of mischief, and my brother was being his normal “tormenting” self. I, however, cannot affix all of the blame upon him. I am sure I was also acting in my typical “bullying” manner. Towards the end of our journey here, things were growing a bit… monotonous shall we say. I decided to SPICE things up. I proceeded to find a nice long stick and a relatively firm Buffalo pie. I needed a pie that had a firm shell, but a nice soft center. With a little ingenuity I found the perfect pie! I proceeded to take the stick to the pie. I plunged the tip through the newly formed crust and into the heart of this steaming pile. I gently rolled the shaft through the creamy center as to make the perfect torture implement. When my task was complete I proceeded to chase my brother all of the Park’s meadow. After just a few minutes of chasing him, I was growing tired. There was only so much enjoyment one could gain from simply running after your brother with a Buffalo pie-on-a-stick. I made the next logical choice, and as Emeril would say – “Let’s Kick it Up a Notch!” The chase grew more intense, and with one calculated movement, I smeared the Buffalo pie into my brother’s hair. And rest assured, I got the majority of the prize onto the target.
Here is the email that my brother sent in response, after I emailed him the photos from our recent visit to the park:
Dallas Nash:
Date: Sat, 9 Sep 2006 12:56:23 -0400
>Ty:
>We took a relaxing trip to Elk Island Park today. I thought about our
>childhood trips there the entire time…
>I took these photos thinking of you… Open them in order Photo 1, Photo
>2, Photo 3, Photo 4…
>Love you…>–
>Dallas J.G. Nash
Tyson: “You are a piece of work. Don’t worry I haven’t forgotten. You will get yours! Maybe that is why I have such beautiful hair today though. It might not be too late for you bro… Love you too.”
Ahhh, what wonderful memories.
The second such memory from Elk Island Park comes again, at the hands (or rear) of the wonderful Bison. Blake Bunting and I (along with a few other guys) were camping at Elk Island Park in the late summer. Our tent was pitched in a meadow, along a tree line near Tavevick Lake. We awoke early in the morning to a giant face pressing into the side of our tent. Then, without warning, there were deep groans, snorts and flatulence. Some sort of liquid-like substance was being sprayed against the side of our tent. We gathered our collective strength, cleared the sleep from our eyes and peeked outside the tent. We were standing in midst of a herd of Bison. There were at least 20 of them; huge, imposing, and grazing. They were pressing their faces into the side of our tent, and the more disgusting ones of the herd were “dumping” mass amounts of wet feces down the side of our tent. Needless to say, we left the tent (permanently) and moved slowly from the pack into the woods. We were very lucky that day! We escaped unharmed and without stain!
As a closing thought, the day brought back many emotions from my home. There was a feeling in the warm breezes that immediately took me back to my childhood. The air was cool, but the breeze was warm. It was a comforting feeling that I have not had since being back in Edmonton in early September. It has been more than ten years… It was as if I could see myself playing on the neighbor’s lawn, basking in the late August sun. My mind’s eye held that vision, and my heart held onto the feeling. It was opened again to me on that day. What a beautiful and simple memory. It amazes me that memories can be brought to life by a scent, a warm breeze, a touch or the sound of a piece of music. What a beautiful life I have lived.
Today I am thankful for that Alberta summer breeze and for the people from my home that I remember with all the fondness that is possible to feel for another…