Campfire Symmetry 

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The New Symmetrical Installment

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Struggle for Survival

The sun was slowly falling behind the penthouse suite. The large red apartment building across the wooded ravine blocked the natural sunset; creating an artificial dusk. City pollution swarmed the evening sky in a collage of colours─orange, indigo and green. It was the artistry of the concrete jungle.

A transplanted stand of pine trees landscaped the apartment courtyard, leading to the sparse smattering of natural forest in the ravine. A small creek curled through the ravine and flowed toward rush hour traffic. Spring runoff from the cement reservoir was spilling over the banks of the creek. The water was foaming with stretches of urban whitewater: rapids and dirt.

The atypical sunset scene is the epitome of suburban warfare. The battle is for survival. But it is not the human species confronting the challenges of nature. It is nature attempting to survive urban sprawl. Wilderness is removed from the urban world, but small pockets of natural environment still survive. It is enough to afford us a taste of nature, and dreams of pristine wilderness.

Unfortunately, country folk often misunderstand urban culture, representing the rural void. Both cultures have common resources we should be sharing, but are victimized by the urban gap and the rural void: just as the city slicker is chastised for not knowing how to dress properly in winter or cook over an open fire, and the country bumpkin is ridiculed for not knowing how to drive in traffic or dine at a fancy restaurant. The urban gap and rural void are often exemplified by the language we choose. The urban gap calls it biodiversity, or an eco-system. The rural void calls it the woods, or the bush. The urban gap says forest bed; the rural void says the ground. Urbanites will describe an aquatic panorama. Rural folk will call it the lake. Both are valid. Just as we must preserve the natural balance, we must strike a balance in the attitudes of the urban gap and the rural void.

Bridging the gap and filling the void are essential to sharing our common resources. Although the progressive and innovative exist in the suburban landscape, many of the insightful are now found in the countryside escaping the rat race. The chosen lifestyle includes access to urban culture and services, but maintenance of a residence in pleasant, natural surroundings. The rural void has graduated to an honest sensibility, and there is hope of overcoming the urban gap. And that is why it is important to visit nature periodically.

Although wilderness expeditions do not necessarily provoke a true understanding of nature, they will almost certainly nurture an appreciation for the power and the wondrous gifts of Mother Earth. The more we enhance our knowledge and respect of the natural environment, the more likely it is that we can sustain our ecological life support systems. There is hope we will span the urban gap and the rural void if we do not remove ourselves from the natural balance of the planet. And so, get outside and visit nature.

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For my good friends of

Prince Albert National Park.

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Introduction

Things that are Real and Things that Really Matter

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         Campfire Symmetry is a modest dissertation of many different faces. It is about nature and campfires; it is about trees and hiking; it is about canoes and fresh, clear water. That much is certain. But it can also be about laughter and peaceful reflection, euphoria and cosmic connections, or simply the satisfaction of survival. Campfire Symmetry is a description and illustration of nature’s miracles and the rewards of experiencing wilderness. But as much as anything else, Campfire Symmetry is about attitude. The spirit of wilderness can, with the right approach and attitude, offer emotional and physical rewards on several different levels. The spirit is both within us and all around us, as a wise person once phrased poetically. There is the relaxing touch of nature’s quiet gifts like the consoling solitude of a walk along a forest trail; the inspiring sensation from nature’s more dramatic gifts such as the spectacular view of a bright and bold comet consuming the night sky with a radiant eminence; or the ecstatic stimulation of whitewater rapids. There is the spiritual exploration offered by the mystical powers of the northern lights; the simple comfort of mastering valuable wilderness survival skills; the physical prowess from the labour necessary for wilderness survival; and don’t forget there are rewards from both nature and humankind, like a glowing campfire cooking the evening meal at the bosom of a brilliant sunset. To thoroughly benefit from these gifts and rewards, a congenial attitude is helpful. This is the fine art of balanced discernment. It is learning to truly embrace life and enjoy the rewards, without losing perspective on reality and the importance of common sense. It is the difference between appreciating a tree and hugging a tree: that nasty bark and sap can be a messy affair. However, dancing around trees or singing to trees is encouraged. Campfire Symmetry is about nature, wilderness and living for things that are real and things that really matter. It is about the balance of nature in all respects, which this planet needs for survival.

Campfire Symmetry

         Where there is a tree, there is hope. It is true: the trees do indeed sing a forest chant. When they breathe, we breathe. The enchanting sounds emanating from the trees as they sway in the wind are indicative of nature’s miracles. But the trees also groan in pain. Although the trees are remarkable botanical creatures, nature is not always kind. Survival is cruel; sometimes the trees must be sacrificed.

         Campfire symmetry is a celebration of existence. Symmetry is found in the spirit of wilderness. It involves a conscious journey into wilderness to observe the power of nature, which manifests into enriching spiritual rewards. An understanding of the harmony of nature nurtures a cherished appreciation for life. The journey into wilderness offers earthly rewards, both harsh and wholesome, through the skills of survival. The power of nature offers spiritual rewards through the peaceful wonder of nature’s miracles and an understanding of our own existence. Often seemingly simple, yet delicately complex beneath the surface, the gifts of nature are telling testimony to the spiritual powers of the universe; where peace and contentment are ever present but well hidden.

         The rewards of campfire symmetry are derived from both the euphoria of natural wonders, and the danger of surviving in the wild. Finding these rewards is not always easy nor congenial. Learning to survive in the wilderness enhances a sensible code of ethics through honest labour and peaceful rewards. The gifts of the trees are among nature’s most intimate secrets. But trees also grow old and die, they are destroyed by fire, and wind storms send them crashing. The rewards of symmetry are best appreciated when earned through the effort and exertion that is required for wilderness survival.

         Campfire symmetry can be followed through the etiquette of survival: a celebration of rituals honouring nature’s power, both pleasant and enchanting; fierce and raw. The rituals of campfire symmetry are versatile, and differ from soul to soul. It is the intent of ritual that is important―honouring the spirit of wilderness. The content of ritual varies with a blend of natural elements and human emotion, such as sunshine and water, exhilaration, wind and weather, fascination, the night sky, insouciant serenity, wildlife, fear of the unknown and pure adventure. The ceremony of symmetry often simply involves the experience of nature at work: a dramatic and colourful sunset, the glinting aurora of the northern lights, the song of trees as they bend in the wind, the roar of rapids as water rushes over rocks and boulders, the harsh devastation of a hurricane, the view from a majestic mountain peak, the ferocious eruption of a volcano, mist and fog floating over a soft meadow, a whitetailed deer or timber wolf in full flight, and much, much more.

         The true path to these euphoric rituals is plentiful in the wild backcountry of the north, where the skills of survival are absolutely necessary. Since the trees are one of the most precious illustrations of nature’s domain, and survival can be a cruel yet profound lesson in life, the most essential ritual of symmetry is the burning of a soothing campfire. Sacrificing the trees to create a comforting campfire exemplifies the etiquette of survival. Water is life. Sunshine and wind are the energy. But fire is the power. There are spiritual rewards in the creation of an inspiring campfire. It is a simple yet meaningful task involving the sacrifice of fibre and human strain. The physical energy required offers a true appreciation for the final reward, while the wood fibre is a fitting contribution from nature. The first sacrifice is birch bark: always start a campfire with birch bark. It is important to gather dry, crisp bark. This means searching out an ideal tree with wide layers of aged bark. The ritual begins.

         The search for a tree initiates the discovery of wilderness. Next comes the kindling. Small branches from fallen trees snapped into short twigs are preferable, especially conifer branches with dried needles and lichen―known as old man’s beard. The twigs should be gradually cracked in longer lengths. This requires further effort to break longer branches. But the real sacrifice of strain comes from sawing and  splitting trunk logs. Again, fallen trees are convenient, but standing dead trees are also desirable. Mindfully and safely saw the trees, starting with a practical thickness and working to slim trunks; pacing toward completion of the task. A collapsible lightweight saw that bolts into place will suffice to gnaw through campfire trunks. A chainsaw can be utilized for furnace wood, but while on the trail a hand saw is the only option; and it requires the necessary exertion for a true appreciation of the ritual. The thick trunk logs must be split with an axe or hatchet. Adapting the skill of an axe summons the symmetry of the ritual. It is a methodical process placing each log on its end and precisely splitting it with one swing. The correct blend of strength and accuracy will exert the body. The routine will become meaningful and satisfying. This is the honest labour that prepares the human condition for the peaceful reward: allowing the spirituality of the campfire ritual to penetrate the soul.

     Now that the cleansing is complete―with firewood neatly stacked―the burning may begin. Start with the birch bark; ideally curling upward. Place the twigs and any loose wood chips in the cup formed by the bark. Teepee style is most effective to start the fire. Conservatively stack kindling over the twigs. Ignite the birch bark and place more kindling on the flames until a small bed of hot coals has formed. Begin burning larger branches and eventually the split trunks. Arrange wood in the fire by delicately placing new logs on the flames. Before adding wood to the campfire, flip the large burning logs to fully consume the fuel on both sides. This will flare the campfire to accommodate new wood. Carefully placing firewood in a symmetrical design to spark the mystique of a campfire is essential to the ritual. The square stacking construction method produces an impressive fire source, but a slanted teepee style provides an intriguing structure for dancing flames: honouring the spirit of wilderness. The flames symbolize the power of nature, while an attractive and consoling fire conjures an ethereal wave of peaceful grace. An experienced campfire maintainer will absorb the warmth down to the last smoldering flames.

         Now step back from the flames, while the fire is still blazing, and the rituals of symmetry begin to unfold. Walk into the surrounding woods or beside the nearby water and watch the flickering campfire in the distance. The gentle touch of the fire seeps into the fabric of the forest, coating the natural environment with a benign warmth. The spirit of wilderness is accentuated. The trees take on a friendly character, the water’s surface speaks softly, and the night sky sparkles with vitality. The essence of nature is captured in the aura around a campfire.

               This celebration of campfire symmetry is a perpetual definition of discovery  and inspiration, but its principles are based on consistent values. Nothing worthwhile is meant to be easy. Convenience can dull our senses. We forget simple pleasure and become obsessed with seeking complicated technology; losing our survival instincts.

However, technology is not evil; it is a path to the future, travelling amazingly parallel to campfire symmetry. But the application of technology tends to promote complacency: without challenge we lack discipline and rewards.

         The spirit of wilderness is generous, while life in the industrialized, civilized world of roads, rail and flight patterns, is often difficult and stressful. The rewards of natural gifts become the respite and regeneration in life’s tribulations. We must feel the spirit of the land. We must smell the pine trees. We must symmetrically build campfires. Life can be a struggle, but struggling to survive can be rewarding. This philosophy is elucidated by the ecology of wetlands: otherwise known as the swamp.

         We are born in a swamp; thrown directly into the muck and slime. We muddle around in the marsh for a short time during our youth, until the moment of reckoning: the search begins. It’s the search for relief from all the muck and slime. We venture from the confines of the swamp, only to discover murky boundaries. Soon the marsh becomes waste deep, but we persevere. We work and toil to find something better; an escape from the swamp.

         And then we see it in the distance. It’s a small island of grass amid the swamp. We drive through the marsh with a revitalized pace. We fight on, wading through the wetlands. Finally we arrive at the grass island. It is appealing: solid and dry. We have found new land; a new paradise. The island is safe and the view is grand. The swamp does not look quite as ferocious from the island. It is even enticing: a rich dichotomy of ecological features. And so we eventually jump back into the swamp. But we realize our island is surrounded by more muck and slime.

         The marsh becomes thicker after we depart the island. The stench of muck and slime is most powerful. We are afraid the bog will consume us. But then, when we least expect to find it, there it is: new life, new hope, new land. We look to the horizon and we see a ridge leading to high ground. But the slough becomes even deeper, seemingly defiant of our pursuit. We trudge through the last contours of marsh to reach the high ground. We have finally reached the end of the swamp. We climb to the top of the ridge and gaze at the new world beyond the high ground. And what do we see? More muck and slime: another swamp.

         Life is a challenge. We simply accept the swamp and learn to admire its hidden qualities. Wetlands can be beautiful. And when we are not struggling through muck and slime, we enjoy the rituals of symmetry on high ground. This ritual high ground is often associated with a special place: perhaps the mountains, an ocean, lake or river, a forest or even the backyard woods. My special place is a magical land. It is a land that surrenders my soul to emotions of the heart. It is a land of lush flora, sparkling water, bustling wildlife and diverse terrain. There I explore the realm of nature and release my demeanour to the treasured rewards of spiritual freedom. It is a place that conjures serene tranquillity and endearing insouciance. It is a place that provokes both thoughtful contemplation and exhilarating discovery. It is a place of peaceful embrace.

         It is a land known by the names that echo the wilderness: Waskesiu, Crean, Bladebone, Bagwa, Ajawaan and Kingsmere. This magical land has touched my soul. Surrounded by the spirit of wilderness, I embrace the rewards of nature and human emotion.

         Sunshine and water―

         It was a refreshing insouciance: crossing the magnificent Kingsmere Lake on a calm sunny summer day. Floating on the Canadian Shield lake, Winston Waskesiu and friends decided to strap their canoes together for lunch and plunge into the water. The top layer of the lake was perfectly refreshing, but the northern waters cooled at lower depths. The canoeists could easily peer deep into the clear lake and watch each other moving through the water. The glittering reflections of sunshine pierced the lake and stimulated an underwater euphoria. The lunch break was extremely relaxing and serene, and their suntans looked nice too.

Wind and weather―

The raging wind was at fierce force and the squalls were rampant. Winston Waskesiu and his good friend Bladebone were paddling their canoe in the middle of a wide channel. The rain throttled against the bow and the wind howled at their heads. Waskesiu’s dependable summer hat, Duke, was tugged off his scalp and went flying into the lake. Winston insisted on retracing their path and retrieving his hat. The fuming turmoil of the boiling waterway was lost to his blind quest for Duke. They swung around and grabbed the hat, crashing through foaming water and waves. Knifing through the gaping swells without tipping the canoe broadside into a crest of water required an enticing adrenaline of paddling prowess. Thanks to their canoeing skills they completed the channel crossing. They emerged around the point of land at the far side of the channel where a large lake presented another challenge. However, they were greeted by a reward from nature in response to their brave and defiant quest for a summer hat named Duke. The wind had swirled in their face across the channel, but had now shifted to their backs on the open lake. Hawkins Kingsmere and Patricia Pease were awaiting in a second canoe with conniving smiles. It was time to go sailing. They fastened the canoes together with rope and paddles across the gunwales for stability. In the bow of each canoe they erected another two paddles to serve as masts. Hawkins pulled out a nylon tent fly and stretched it across the bows of the canoes by tying it to the paddles. The wind quickly filled the makeshift sail and Winston used his paddle as a rudder while Bladebone shouted navigational instructions. It was exhilarating. The canoes steamed across the lake; riding the waves with surges of speed and slicing headlong into swells and whitecaps. The tickle of the wind ruffling and billowing the sail with the gurgling swish of the water churning between the canoes only enhanced the thrill of their lake crossing. They indulged in a hot mug of soup at the end of the next portage.

The night sky―

It was late in the evening as Christopher Crean, Winston Waskesiu and Hawkins Kingsmere sat around a campfire on the shore of Churchill River. The brisk but moderate wind delightfully swirled the flames. Using his imagination Hawkins pictured images in the mix of fire and wood: a distant planet with lights of civilization dotting the surface. A branch of firewood curling over the flames began to crackle under the influence of spontaneous combustion. A red hot ember popped and flew upward toward the sky: a space ship has departed. Seemingly in response to Hawkins’s inference of alien civilization, the faint sprinkle of the northern lights began to consume the night. Christopher, Winston and Hawkins walked over to the shoreline and lay back to observe the fascinating spectacle of aurora borealis. Usually more spectacular in the winter, this was a rare summer display of the aurora; spreading across the entire reach of the sky between the two horizons of the river valley. The sky was overwhelmed with the treasured tones of sharp red and blue, along with the more familiar green and indigo. The spiked colours mingled and danced over the river basin as if touching the water; mounting to a feverish pitch and exploding into wonderful waves of glimmering light drifting the expanse of the night sky. The northern lights were exceptional: wafting solar interaction of electromagnetic colours, seductively sauntering across the heavens.

         Wildlife―

         Winston Waskesiu was jogging along his favourite path beside the lake, shaded by a healthy growth of aspen and birch. In the past he had been joined on the trail by a bounding moose and a lumbering cinnamon bear. A steep pitch of wooden stairs over eighty steps high presented a hurdle along the trail. Halfway up the steps Winston suddenly noticed something move to the side of the trail. It was a whitetailed deer leisurely munching on an aspen sucker, but now entranced in an assessment of this intruder. Winston remained still to watch the timid creature. The deer did not stir. Waskesiu then listened to a sound at his back. He moved slowly and turned to see another deer also browsing. Winston cautiously sat down and shared a few moments of peace with the wildlife. The miracle of nature was evident in the graceful movements of the animals.

         Fear of the unknown―

         It was the midnight hour. A pack of hungry coyotes had been howling from the small ridge, much too close for peaceful sleeping. Winston and his father were camping on the weekend. Dad wanted to use the makeshift outhouse, but the proximity of the coyotes made him think twice. Showing the maturity of a brave teenager, Winston offered to escort his father. He grabbed the axe and they trotted over to the rustic shack. While his father did his business, Winston could hear the prancing footsteps of approaching coyotes. They had come to investigate. And then Winston saw the gleaming orange-reddish eyes piercing through the underbrush only a short distance away. He hammered on the outhouse wall with the axe and shouted at the top of his lungs; effectively keeping the animals at bay. He continued for several seconds; clearly motivated by the rush in his soul pumping from the encounter with wild animals. Finally his father, being deafened by the sound of the pounding axe, shouted back to his son: “Okay Winston. I think that should be enough.” Winston stopped pounding and the coyotes stopped their advance, content to leave the humans alone for the night. Father and son returned to their tent without a coyote scratch in sight.

Pure adventure―

The two outdoor enthusiasts were determined. They strapped their packs and skis to their backs and began to climb the five thousand foot mountain. The climb was grueling enough to nurture an appreciation for the challenge, yet it was also invigorating. They celebrated at the top of the peak with a drink of cool mountain water and a small bottle of wine, along with an exquisite assortment of aging cheese. The view was exalted. The ski to the bottom was thrilling. And then they did it again.

         These are but a few examples of the rituals that comprise campfire symmetry. Select a domain to your liking and partake of nature’s wonders. Create your own rituals. Go wild, but respect the gifts of wilderness. Embrace the peaceful rewards of campfire symmetry.

Nature’s Symmetry

ice capped

precipitous

leaping

into the grey valleys

slicing

energizing

white streaks of blue

mountain light

reflecting the sky

sharp aqua rock

grandeur and might

sporadically spreading

waterfall path

pond ripples in sight

turquoise and black

stretching

across the umber tundra

suckled by sand spit blonde

peninsula beach

caressing

amber roots and bark

rising

bursting with luscious green

rich and tanned

caribou ridge

fortified by the shadows

of spruce and pine

drenched by the comfort

of the searing sunshine

gleaming and bright

mauve curtains at night

bowing to the miracles

the sunset bequest

approving of the last sacrifice

the glowing red embers

of a campfire poem

Spirit Boreal

wilderness abound

striding over ridge

and dell

faithful retriever by my side

hounding bounding pace

golden brown

mallard pond

reflecting sunlight

water fowl in flight

stirred from placid surface

delightful sight

pulsating current

whitewater excite

standing over cliff

precipitous

watching waterway surge

spring rainfall swells

dangerous river

rushing raw power

knifing through rapids

paddle at the helm

refreshing splash sputters

tingling cold freshwater

canoeing for miles

tranquillity

shoreline lunch

soothing lakeside

roaring campfire

sunset

collage of coloured clouds

twilight bold

stars and northern lights

swirling aurora borealis

sipping on Labrador tea

telling stories

enjoying life

mountain range

intimidating yet inviting

harsh and cold

casehardened rock

jagged and sharp

unrelenting

sloping down

plush valley bed

threadbare trail

over meadow and marsh

through mixed pine stands

evergreen coniferous

sweet smell and sound

burgeoning flora

fauna scurry

big grizzly bellows

elk rut and defy

instinctive rituals

natural wonder alive

susurrating horizon

soft contours

flowing and wild

invigorating

spirit boreal

the Canada

I call home

Marvel at the Wonders of the Heavens

         The sun was slowly setting behind a mauve horizon. A cool mist hovered over the calm lake; gently floating into the shoreline behind a soft westerly. Christopher Crean and Winston Waskesiu appeared completely satisfied casting a fishing line from shore. The campfire glowed as Hawkins Kingsmere spit sunflower seeds into the hot coals.

         The peaceful campsite was a welcome retreat for the three backpackers, but earlier that evening they were pounced by spring’s unpredictability. It was the first backpacking trip of the spring season. The day began clear and sunny, but still brisk. They started their hike gazing at a surging creek. Laying on a rustic footbridge, they soaked up the sunshine while watching the spring runoff. The winter freeze was ending and new life was budding. The walk to one of their favourite spots, Beartrap Lake, was revitalizing. The refreshing season sprinkled rejuvenated wilderness throughout the gully by the lake. It was lustrous: green and bright.

        Christopher, Winston and Hawkins immediately pitched their tents and collected firewood once they reached the lake. A few clouds rolled across the sky; pale white and growing thick. They ignited a campfire, sorted their gear and prepared ingredients for the evening meal. But it was apparent nature was soon to blast her signature. Although brief, random April and May thunderstorms tend to run rampant in the north.

         The looming clouds deepened to a dark shade of gray and consumed the sky. Flashes of white light reflected off the small lake, followed by the subdued rumbling of thunder. A mild smattering of raindrops began to fall on the treetop canopy of conifers and trembling aspen. The outdoor adventurists were somewhat fortified in their small cove with hills behind them and the lakeside to the west, affording them a view of the mounting thunderstorm. They pulled out their weather proof suits to prepare for the onslaught of rain, wind and lightning. The fire was roaring as it devoured the crisp firewood. They delayed their cooking schedule to string a tarp between trees. They piled firewood under the tarp to protect it from the shower, zipped up their rainsuits and put on a billycan to boil water. They were ready to be rifled with a short but fierce downpour.

             The unrelenting shower pelted their lakeshore camp. The pounding raindrops reverberated against the ground; blending with the hissing spikes of rain into the campfire and the smacking pops of the powerful droplets on the tarp and tents. The three campers stood in the downpour with their hoods tucked around their ears, watching the fire struggle against the torrential threat.

             “Hail?” pondered Waskesiu.

             “Large rain drops,” insisted Crean and Kingsmere.

        They were painting a favourable picture over an incidental downpour. Any weather would have been perfect. They were simply excited to be camping: like boys and girls in a schoolyard at recess. The storm swiftly crossed the landscape, drenching the surrounding slopes and moving into the next valley.

          The campfire survived and the campers remained dry. The tea was ready as the clouds began to open and reveal a gorgeous evening sky. Flashes of lightning lingered and silhouetted the land as they poured their tea. To celebrate the arrival of spring Hawkins presented a small flask of rescue rum, which they traditionally carried on their wilderness trips. They blended a boreal concoction.

           Winston raised his cup to salute their friendship.

          “To friends,” echoed Christopher.

    Instantly answering to their spoken words, a streak of lightning spontaneously illuminated the campsite confines, as if they were gathered in some great cathedral. The three friends glared at each other, silently acknowledging the power of the heavens.

         They drank.

         It thundered.

        The heavenly blast boldly engulfed the camp as they swallowed their boreal tea, peering at each other over the lips of their steaming cups. It was mystical. Friends smiled at each other; truly appreciating the spiritual gift. Words were not needed.