Albert Dumont

Driving to Ottawa from Kitigan Zibi on the 105 last Sunday, I saw in the distance, bright, flashing lights on the roof of a police car parked on the shoulder of the road. It’s a sight I often come across on the busy 105! Speedsters going way too fast will sooner or later fall victim to the coppers’ radar. As I drove by the foolish driver who moments before saw a police officer where not many want to see one, in their rearview mirror, I said, “I hope that learns you not to speed.” LOL!

In my poet’s mind I see things. The blinking lights, a police car, a speedster, they drew me to a fantasy place. I imagine a world then, where the flashing lights of a police car on the shoulder of the road tell passers-by not that a speeding ticket is being handed out but declaring instead that a motorist is being rewarded for their excellent driving skills. “We’ve been watching you drive with care and safety in mind on this busy highway,” a cop might say to the car’s driver, “and we are going to give you a gift in acknowledgement of your contribution in making our highways safer for all.” The driver might receive an expensive box of Belgian chocolates or perhaps a shiny fishing lure, guaranteed to catch nice pickerel (walleye). Such a sight, such a world, would brighten the day of all drivers going to and fro who witnessed it.

Another fantasy land comes to mind after I paid my latest plowing bill. The man doing the job does a perfect job of it. The snow is scraped so clean that what is left is tight like skin to the gravel bed covering my yard. I imagined spreading all my shortcomings, all my dysfunction, all that is negative in my thoughts and actions, onto the surface of my yard. I then call a magical truck which plows it all clear of my yard and brings it to where the purity and perfection of tree spirits deals with it. Now that’s plow work I’d pay anything to have done! LOL.

I often go to Farm Boy on Sunday afternoons after visiting with my grandkids to replenish the food supplies I will need to see me through the next week. So there I was just a few days ago in my favourite store with my grocery list in hand. I had been craving the sweet, refreshing taste of an apple for several days and looked forward to bringing at least half a dozen of them home with me. I love apples! I love them in pies, in crisps, in cake and in a strudel! I knew a guy many years ago who would cut an apple into slices, placing them in between two pieces of toasted bread and eat it as one might eat a tomato sandwich. I tried it and must say, it wasn’t bad at all. I like to cut apples into four pieces and munch on them while listening to powwow songs. I buy apples grown on Canadian soil. I refuse to eat an apple imported from the USA. Let me be perfectly clear, I would deny my taste buds the pleasure of eating an apple again if it meant I’d have to buy one from the USA to do it. What Canada can’t supply, I’ll do without. I hope the readers of this blog feel the same way!

On this day however, there were no apples from Canada available at Farm Boy. All the apples contained in the bins were imported from the USA. Thus, Farm Boy was denied a sale. I am boycotting everything, all things imported from the States. Donald Trump, a convicted felon is cozying up to war criminals like Putin and Netanyahu. He is telling the world that he will annex Canada. The war criminals by his side who have a lot of experience in that area of oppression will urge him on. The annexing of another country’s territory is their specialty. Putin and Netanyahu – Trump is talking their kind of language!

I bought a new (used) car a week ago. I didn’t buy American. I’d ride on a horse/dog team to the city or walk before I support a business from the USA. I bought a Kia! 

I haven’t been in the dating game in many years but if I was, I’d be singing “American woman get away from me. American woman, momma let me be” (girlcott?). When I say boycott, I mean boycott. Trump believes the people of this country will bend to his wishes. He doesn’t know us very well, does he?

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

When we think about who we should trust the most in this dysfunctional world (outside of our own family members), we realize that it is the person/politician we voted for to represent our voice in Houses of Assembly.

When I look at the person seeking to get elected to political office with the aid of my vote, I try to see what is honourable about the candidate, not only through my eyes but also through the eyes of my grandchildren. For it is they, the next generation of our bloodlines, whose health and wellness will be impacted the most by decisions of concern to the environment, healthcare and human rights, our political leaders make today. 

On behalf of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren I want questions answered by people hoping to secure my vote on election day. “What is your plan to stop crime, to fight abuse of power by corrupt politicians, to combat homelessness and to assure sensible medical aid for all citizens?” To bring peace to my mind I want to know the principles that will guide the person I will support with my vote! My relatives not yet born are counting on me to do my part as a voter in bringing in the best of the best to lead us into a gentler and better future.

It is true that money corrupts but I put my trust (my vote) into a person I believe will never sell out to anyone. I do not want to worry about the person I voted for being bought by powerful lobbies or corporations in this country. The person I vote for will be expected to fight the oppression of any human beings on this earth, regardless of skin colour or cultural background. I expect them to do so with every fibre of their being. If they don’t, I will regard it as a broken trust and I will not be quick to forgive.

Some of you reading this might not like it, but when Justin Trudeau was elected Prime Minister, I was happy. He got my vote! I believed in him and put my trust in him when he promised “a Nation to Nation relationship” with the Indigenous Peoples of this land. No more!

Trudeau broke the trust I had in him further when he brought Canada into a dark place where Canadians found themselves being complicit in a genocide (Gaza). The Liberals lost my support! I have no trust in Poilievre (that’s a straight up no-brainer), he would be a disaster and march lock step to the orders of other world leaders as Trudeau did. In the next election I am voting NDP.

I support Joel Harden’s nomination for Ottawa-Centre and I will be voting for Gilbert Whiteduck in Pontiac-KitiganZibi.

I trust in both of them to uphold the values I stand to protect and defend. Both Gilbert and Joel have proven themselves over the years I have known them, to be ‘honourable” men who will do all they can to make our world cleaner, safer and fair for all.

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

I believe in a loving, understanding and forgiving Creator! Human beings are creatures of many faults and shortcomings. No matter how hard we try to be gracious and accommodating, our limits are all too often tested, leading to wrongs being perpetrated. Thank goodness Creator is patient with us.

I believe I can, through the force of deep spiritual meditation, communicate the concerns I have for family, all my relations and also my Nation to Creator in a good way. I believe that the doing of good deeds by human beings is recorded and celebrated in the world some of us will go to after our lives come to an end for us on this plain.

I believe in love of family. They say that “Blood is thicker than water” and that “Water is life”, what more needs to be said! The blood flowing through the hearts of my family members and the birth waters of my mother are sacred to me. I believe in friends, real ones! In my life I’ve known (and have today) friends who are compassionate, empathetic, supportive and loving. The kindness of their hearts is what attracted me to them. They have my back! I have theirs! It saddens me to know that the world has people in it who don’t know the difference between what is a ‘friend’ and what is an acquaintance. I do! I have had enough of false friends and no longer make space for them in my life.

I believe in doing all I can to make sure that the Anishinabe Algonquin Nation gets its due respect on our never surrendered territory. To our guests and visitors I say “tread softly on the rights of the Algonquin people.” I never cared much for the words “since time immemorial”. These words are not strong enough to describe how long the people who have become known as ‘Algonquin’ have been living here. Our Creation Story begins here within the perimeters of the Kichi Zibi watershed and even beyond that time, never doubt it! If you wish to know how long the Algonquins have been here, ask Creator!

I believe in the Anishinabe Algonquin legends and their ancient lore, passed on to our people by our ancestors. I believe in the wisdom of our old people and in the strength and energy of our young people. I believe in honourable role models and in kind-hearted mentors.

I knew a wise old man years ago, a good friend, who would bark, “Come on in out of the storm” when he came to answer my knock on his door. He would say this in the way of a welcoming, no matter if it was the dandiest day of the year weather-wise. He knew life was a ‘storm’. A storm that had the ability to consume you if ever it found you in a state of weakness. The storm which has engulfed the earth for centuries has gotten far worse today. We need to keep strong teachings by our side to shield us, to defend us and to believe in, to give us a chance to survive ferocious, opposing winds. I recall a person up in age at a pow wow, who said, “It’s not the price of a gift which makes what you are given precious. It is the good intentions of the gift giver which are priceless.” I agree!

We need something to believe in! If you don’t have it, find it!

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

My poet’s heart sang and danced last week when I found myself at Pinecrest Public School, a public elementary school (OCDSB). As I expected would be the case, the students at Pinecrest were extraordinarily welcoming and gracious!

I was invited to Pinecrest by Principal Naya Markanastasakis to speak to the students about my children’s story ‘The Maple Leaves of Kichi Makwa’ (written 30 years ago). While there, I was thrilled (not to mention super surprised) and humbled to see on walls of the school, maple leaves in the likeness of those in my story, drawn by students. I saw questions and statements about the story, posed and declared by students as young as 6 years of age. These were also interspersed on walls of the school (see link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NsCs-oyogJJ41u-xrLRTG1qHWCGn9OeixXjtkPAivw8/edit?tab=t.0).

After the students had entered the gymnasium/auditorium in a mannerly and organized way, they sat on the floor facing the stage where I sat with five student school leaders. The energy was delightful! A broad smile stayed fixed on my face throughout their entry, I knew right away that we were going to have a good time!

The story ‘The Maple Leaves of Kichi Makwa’ tells of the maple leaves on the limbs of maple trees in the magical land of Kichi Makwa (Great Bear). The story tells how the maple leaves became upset when they observed that their friends and neighbours around them were painted with several colours. The flowers were colourful, the birds too, even the rainbow. The leaves didn’t think this was fair, they had only one colour: green! So they cried countless tears, not for days or weeks but for many months. Eventually Aki, the spirit of Kichi Makwa, fed up with the constant wailing of the crying leaves granted the maple leaves the gift of colour.

The leaves, now bright and majestic with the colours of orange, red and yellow felt that they and they alone, were the most precious and the most beautiful of all the beautiful life forms of Kichi Makwa! They became egotistical and mean-hearted. The maple leaves bullied and teased everyone around them! This constant harrassment by the leaves made all their neighbours feel angry and frustrated!

Aki was watching, what she saw made her heart race, and in her displeasure with the leaves (she had no tolerance for bullies), used her great power to create the land’s first autumn. Kichi Makwa had before then, known only one season, summer! Cold days and nights along with winds unknown before in Kichi Makwa loosened the leaves from their branches and off they flew, leaving the trees empty of their presence. “I never want to see a maple leaf again,” declared Aki. “They are forever banished.”

The story does have a happy ending. Forgiveness occurs, the leaves return, Aki’s wisdom and compassion saves the day! The purpose of this tale is to remind all of us that you, whoever you are, wherever you come from, are already perfect in the eyes of Creator. The story teaches us that bullying is not acceptable! No human being comes from a culture or heritage that is greater before Creator than the one of the people living next door or sitting beside you in a classroom! We learn that no matter the skin colour of the person next to you, he/she is as worthy of being treated with equal respect and dignity as ‘you’ are. We are all citizens of this great land, let’s recognize it and together, make Canada better for it.

The students at Pinecrest have found a place in the heart of a poet and storyteller. And I feel I have grown emotionally and spiritually because of it. Pinecrest is a wonderful school!

To purchase a copy of ‘The Maple Leaves of Kichi Makwa’, check out my website at http://albertdumont.com/books/the-maple-leaves-of-kichi-makwa/. The story of the leaves has been written into a play. Pinecrest is considering performing it at their school. I look forward to seeing it.

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

This old logging route going from Wakefield, Québec to Maniwaki, is a lot like my past life. It has its dangerous curves, it has its rough surfaces (boy I’ll say) but it also has areas that are straight and easier to navigate (since my sobriety in 1988).

By and by, the old highway has become for me, a ‘time machine’. As I drive along the shoulders of the Tenagadino (Gatineau River), I find myself able to see quite vividly, my ancestors, in their magnificent birchbark canoes, making their way south, heading for Akikodjiwan (Chaudière Falls) for ceremony and feasting or perhaps going to where Ottawa is now, for the purpose of trade. As a man who retrieves a great amount of healing from swimming, I find it strange today that I have never gone for a dunk in the Tenagadino. I have never canoed on her either but will do both in 2025, this I promise!

I often reflect on long forgotten memories while heading north on the 105. I remember things such as when I was a child and being in a car with family, going to Kitigan Zibi from Pontiac, to visit with grandparents. I remember the conversations my parents were having with the driver of the car (often a relative from the Kitigan Zibi Anishinabeg) who had driven from K.Z. to Pontiac to bring us north. The chatter might go as follows: “Oh, this is where an Algonquin died in a car crash,” my dad would say in the way of beginning a conversation with the driver of the car. All details were known somehow, such as who was driving, where the passengers were sitting, who was killed, who lived. It is certain that over the many years since the 105 was constructed, far too many deaths have occurred throughout its length. May all who died on the 105 rest in peace!

There are places on this roadway where teachings I share at conferences or to make a point, had their origins on the 105, such as the maple tree on a high hill between Wakefield and Low which has taught me about the strength, beauty and glory of my Algonquin roots and why I, as an Algonquin storyteller, have a duty to keep our circle strong.

Alongside the 105 you will see trees growing from what appears to be solid rock, balsam fir and cedars, all healthy, teaching us that they are like the Algonquins. Though oppressive laws and policies of the Indian Act left us with little, we survived, grew and flourished all the same.

I see secluded houses off the highway and I wonder if the children who grew up in them knew every nook, cranny and crevice of the rolling hills not far from their homes. I know that if it was me who had lived there when I was little, the hills would have been a great place of adventure and peace for me. Even now, I have the urge to go into them and explore what mysteries await the gratitude of the human eye!

When I drive through Low, Québec, I often bring my old friend ‘Beverley’ to mind. She lived into her 93rd year of life (deceased in 2013) and was a huge fan of my poetry writing. Beverley had a deep respect for Indigenous people. Her ancestors were driven out of the USA after the War of Independence was won by the Americans and forced the British to leave. Beverley’s family lineage became known as the ‘United Empire Loyalists’. They came north from the U.S. in the 1700’s and settled on lands the Algonquins had never surrendered. Beverley was a firecracker and I miss her a lot.

The towns and villages on the 105 all have interesting stories and interesting people! Over the passing of my 74 years, thus far, I have stopped in most every place of business and eaten in most every one of the restaurants on the 105. The food was always good, the merchandise purchased was top of the line! The people I’ve met, the Algonquin, the French, the English and other citizens were/are all peaceful and friendly. The 105! It’s a scenic drive!

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

The biggest loser in the election last night was our dear Mother Earth. How she will suffer, how she will weep! I wonder to what degree she will fight back when her wounds open wider and her blood (water) is poisoned to degrees never imagined before a man like Trump became (again) leader of the USA.

A convicted felon who believes that Global Warming is a hoax has been elected president of the most powerful country on earth. “On the first day of my presidency,” he promised, “I will drill baby drill!” (fracking), something he promised to thunderous cheers from his supporters. A MAGA voter said in an interview this morning about Trump’s win: “It means more money in my pocket!” ‘Money’ – yes our dear Mother Earth needs to learn that ‘money’ is more important to most people of this world than is the health of the water we drink so we can live.

Trump told the world during the campaign that when elected president, he will advise Netanyahu to “finish the job”. This could only mean wiping Palestine off the face of the map. There is only one Palestine on this planet. I fear that very soon, Palestine will no longer exist, the genocide will be complete! A people who have been severely oppressed since 1948 and have been enduring unimaginable suffering for over a year, are destined it seems, to experience even greater misery now that a leader from Turtle Island gives the green light to the war mongers to wipe out Palestine. Palestinians were removed from the lands they had lived on for millennia and placed on reserves: Gaza and the West Bank. My heart, my spirit, my energies, go out to them now and I am afraid for them. Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are co-combatants in the force delivering the death blow to many thousands of innocent Palestinian children. The blood of those children cannot be washed clean from the hands of the war criminals.

The violent extremists who stormed the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2020 and were jailed for their criminal actions will be set free by Trump. Women’s rights will be set back decades! Trump promised to be a ‘Dictator’! “You won’t have to vote again,” he promised. When a convicted felon makes a promise like that, you got to take it seriously. Good human beings worry for the future of their children while others are concerned about money in their pockets!

Trump is a vengeful man (keep Project 2025 in mind)! People who crossed him better beware now that he will be the president. He is not the type of man I would want marrying into my family but for most American voters he’s their guy simply because they believe it means ‘more money for themselves and cheaper gas prices’.

A dying planet, where people whose ability to gather kindness into their hearts, passed away somewhere on their life’s trail. Proof of it lays in the results of last night’s election in the USA. It’s a different world! Let us do all we can to keep the circle strong.

Keep the circle strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

I remember a man from my youth, who after being involved in a terrible car accident, was left without the ability to mentally function again in a normal way. A bad fracture of his forehead was doctored by the installation of a steel plate where bone had once protected his brain. ‘Jimmy’ was never the same afterwards! He ended up living on the streets of Ottawa, where on several occasions I chanced to meet him. When Jimmy and I did bump into each other, I would invite him to have a meal with me in one of the many ‘greasy spoons’ found in Ottawa in the 1970’s. He was homeless and fun loving! He was gentle and honourable! Jimmy died of an epileptic seizure when he was only 38. May he rest in peace!

For as far as my ‘city’ memories go, I see that I have always nurtured a warm place in my heart for ‘street people’, no doubt placed there through the friendship I had with Jimmy. Creator knows that back in 1973 I came very close to ending up on the street myself! At that time I and another alcoholic began buying 40 oz. bottles of Club House Golden Sherry and sitting in a park all day, getting drunk. This was something I did for half the summer of 1973. I was able to break free! Many could not! My drinking buddy of that summer never left the street. He died a drunkard less than 10 years after beginning his street life.

Almost 60% of Ottawa’s street people are of Indigenous bloodlines. I wrote a poem dedicated to those people of Indigenous ancestry who die on the streets. The poem is titled ‘Do Not Pity me’. The City of Ottawa recorded it when I served as Ottawa’s English Poet Laureate. I dedicate this poem to the Indigenous people who weren’t able to endure the weight brought down on them by the tremendous force of the Indian Act! Here is the link to it if you have an interest in hearing and watching it: https://youtu.be/pgrm84TOgSE.

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

It is true that during the years when the tremendous cruelty living in the world of addiction weighted me down and even at times, left me for dead. Emotionally I no longer had a heartbeat! I cared not for the wellbeing of my community or nation. What a terrible waste those years were!

When sobriety began for me, it brought a faint pulse once again into my emotional domain. With the help of ancient ceremonies (for so long outlawed by Canadian law) I was able to stay strong in my vow to forever renounce a life of nonsense and waste. The pulse of my emotional realm grew strong and healthy and remains so to this very day (since 1988). But it was more than ceremonies which lifted me out of the gutter. It was also the beauty, the wonder and the genius of the Anishinabe Algonquin Nation which placed a shield before me, to keep temptation at bay.

To me, there is no greater evidence of Algonquin genius than the birchbark canoe. It truly is a world wonder! Recently I was contracted by the Museum of Science and Technology to write a poem on ‘precision’ as seen through the eyes of our people. I immediately thought of human beings in a birchbark canoe ‘chuting the rapids’. The canoe is medicine! The canoe calms, it sings a song, it is a gift to us from ‘All Our Relations’!

If you are in a world of addictions and want to free yourself of it, I urge you to take up canoeing. The canoe is a powerful healer. Give it a try in your healing.

The following is the poem I wrote for the Museum, enjoy!

Precision on the Rapids
Albert Dumont ©

Human beings
Holding dear, in heart and spirit
Trust, in oneself
Trust, in the spirit of the river
Trust, in a vessel, made of birchbark
To gracefully perform its dance
Over the waters of swift moving rapids

Oh, aware they are
That the white waters, hunger
For the touch of the canoe
And the melody sung
By the skin of a tree, rises
In harmony, with the ancient song
Being sung by waters and rock

Flesh and brawn, skill and courage
Along with spiritual energies, entering human beings
Making them one, with the canoe

The structure, wonder and genius
Of Creator’s craft
Its weight, its length, its width
Assures it will survive
The force of swift-moving waters

Human beings in harmony with
The paddle
How deep, how close, how far
From the canoe
When, where, why
Like medicine
The canoe defeats the rapids
And onwards it travels
On the Great River of Life

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

How does one define what is a “magical” day?

How does one define what is a spiritually awakening day?

Saturday, August 3, my day began at about 5 AM, when a throaty, short chopping sound awoke me. It was coming from my open bedroom window. I peered out the window and saw a chipmunk sitting on a basketball-size rock, I think it had climbed there to get access to some of the wild blackberries growing near my log home. Some ripe berries were within reach for the chipmunk because of the presence of the rock! I didn’t know chipmunks ate blackberries (?).

I returned to my bed and expressed gratitude to spirit for the sound and sight offered by my little buddy, the chipmunk (I call him Uncle Chippy). Maybe 15 minutes later, I heard coming from somewhere in the sky, the excited call given by a loon in flight. “Oh,” I thought, “the loon is telling all things who hear it to expect rain before the daylight hours of this summer Saturday come to an end!”

Later, as my coffee was brewing, I went into the yard, as I always do, to let the skin of my feet absorb the dew moisturizing the skin of Mother Earth. I go out into a dawning day as well, to fill my lungs with the cool morning air, taking in the wind, untouched by the pollution of a city and instead, full of forest energy! While there, I heard crickets happily singing somewhere on the forest floor. I heard the chirps and tweets of birds playing somewhere in the forest. I heard the gentle rattle of the poplar leaves, responding to the soft breeze heading east.

How delightful it was for me to be spiritually mesmerized by the wonder given this day by the different colours of ‘green’, perfectly spread out among the trees, the grasses, the shrubs, flowers and so on! A great gift of beauty presented for the eyes of human beings from the waters contained in the body of Mother Earth. It is water that creates colour on the land! A young artist from Slovenia, here in the territory a few weeks ago made a profound statement about water when she visited my home. “We are all children of water,” said Radharani Pernarcic. “Water is an entity that loves all her children equally!” Her words will not be forgotten.

In the grass near where I stood, a little toad no longer in length than a 10 cent piece is wide, hopped three or four times and then sat still. A large blue jay alit on a lower branch of the nearby spruce tree, then climbed up to the top, jumping from one branch to the other like a worker making their way up a ladder. A hummingbird suddenly appeared only 4 ft. from my face. Its wings swiftly fanning the air, it lingered for a few seconds, then in a flash it was gone. A beautiful monarch butterfly fluttered about in the yard, stopping on a plant here and there and then bouncing away again on the breeze.

My morning passed. Then at about 3 PM the heavy rain, as foretold by the loon in flight, began its descent. It was accompanied by streaks of lightning which I marvelled at and welcomed as they were the first I had seen this year! Thunder so loud, it vibrated in my ears for a second or two when it cracked, seemingly right over my head! In the evening, a red sun, a perfect circle, rested on the branches of the tall trees on the western horizon for a while, before closing the day. As I lay in my bed, ready for sleep, I held the events of the day in spiritual ponderance. I wondered, after I die, “will I no more experience such days?” It wouldn’t be right if we, the people who love and honour the earth to be denied these joys forevermore.

I believe that when we do not feel the need to condemn the atrocities occurring on the planet, we lessen our chances of being rewarded in the afterlife. It is said ‘Every Child Matters’. And it is true! Every creature of such innocence should be defended by human beings everywhere! There are genocides occurring in different corners of the planet. Children are being blown to smithereens by bombs made in the USA and supported by Canada and other western leaders. Ethnic cleansing is a crime against humanity and a great wrong against the love bestowed on us by Creator.

It is my spiritual duty as a human being to condemn it. If I do not, then the day I saw on Saturday will never be seen by me again in the Great Spirit Land after I leave this physical world. Let us all speak out against genocide!

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)

I go often to my forest healing circle, where the breath of purity and the vibrating energies present there always bring peace to my heart. And it will do so for all who go to such a place for the purpose of spiritual discovery. The forest circle offers much, willing to cleanse me of negative energies. I embrace it all, fully!

The purity of the trees, standing tall around me and the saplings just at the beginning of their life cycle. The purity of the things I see in my circle, growing and living on the skin of Mother Earth. The moss carpeting the black earth and the decaying remnants of trees fallen by storms long ago. The purity still alive in the leaves scattered on the forest floor (yes, I believe that the leaves from past autumns are ‘alive’ in their contribution to health and wellness of our beloved forests), offering safety through camouflage to the noble partridge. The purity of the ants, worms, caterpillars and slugs which live in all places of the forest welcoming them a life on the skin of Mother Earth (the soil would not be rich if not for them). The purity of the moths who seldom fail to visit when I sit in the centre of my circle, colourful and delightful, my spirit dances in harmony with them. The purity of the songs, birds sing from the branches of nearby trees. These things! All, are by my side, when I speak for any cause in the community, I put my energies towards. All these things mentioned here are the purest of what is pure, and what we honour, when we say the words “All my Relations”.

The placenta I took from CHEO after Carter, my great grandson was born is only a short distance from where I sit. I buried it there in ceremony over a year ago when Carter was born. Carter passed away on this day, July 9th, one year ago! I meditate on the purity of a human being. It is only real for the babies, the toddlers and the youngsters of all the peoples of the world! Carter in his innocence was as pure in spirit as all things sacred around me in the forest! Carter was stronger than any man who ever lived. He had more courage than any warrior who ever received honours for his brave deeds on any battlefield in the history of the world. Yet, he was what defines ‘love’ and would have been an honourable man had he lived into adulthood!

I go to this place of purity and I present myself to all life found there, as their impure relative. Not always, but often, I reflect on the wrongs of my past when I sit in the centre of my circle. The ugliness of my actions when I roamed the city streets and bars, in a state of intoxication. I renounce those days as wasted times. The many years of being fooled by an unjust society into believing that I needed alcohol in my life, came to end in the spring of 1988. Purity, at least to a degree came into the life of this Anishinabe Algonquin man’s after I flung the bottle from my troubled life!

I saw a soaring hawk today after leaving my healing place. It went from one end of the open sky to the other in 3 seconds. Oh the wind and the hawk, what a wonder they are when they work together. I thought, “How does the hawk put the brakes on?” But then, why would it need to? The hawk is free! Never should it ‘stop’ in its duties as a sacred messenger!

When I walk to my circle, it’s a downhill exercise, which means, when I return to my home, I have no choice but to walk uphill. The trail is narrow and steep. I rely on the young trees to assist me as I take steps forward and onward back to my house. I take hold of a poplar stem. “Please,” I say, “be kind and help an old man.” They always oblige me and I get home without falling on my face!

To be pure of heart, like that of the birds, fish and animals is something that human beings will never fully realize. All we can do is go to a place of purity and there, humbly make a request from them who are pure in spirit, to help us in any way they can.

Keep the Circle Strong,

South Wind (Albert Dumont)