The hidden years in Canada 91, the blinkin' brook

Door San-Daniel gepubliceerd op Sunday 12 July 15:56

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The blinkin’ brook

It was strange to walk alone there now, the friends would be already in school. The water rippled around me and I walked right into the curve of the beach. There we had been in the sun and laughing, there was nothing that indicated that we had been there,the rain had erased everything. I looked around me through the bushes at the height of where the fur should be hanging but saw nothing. I sat down on a large rock and unfolded the map with the claims. I still had a piece off the river to go and then the claims stopped there. The turn was followed by what side arms of smaller streams. The distance was difficult to estimate because the map lacked a proper scaling on the copy. I decided just to get started and walk as far as the day would allow me.

I wondered if all the bends would be on the map, the river did meander a lot and had they included every bend ..even small ones? My fears were unfounded as soon the river bend away and I came to a side arm. The opening had been hidden by overhanging bushes on the shore, but the ripple in the river betrayed the inflow. I put my stuff on the side and took the pan in hand and walked through the grove until I came to a stream, a deep stream that flowed slowly. So I began searching and pannend and passed the hours. Time passed and I found absolutely nothing. I walked back and reached the car when the darkness began to fall. It was too early to go to sleep and I drove to Mister Jones’ place. The television was on and a much too jovial announcer presented a show which was not really nice. After my umpteenth cup of coffee that had long been cold, I paid and drove off towards the car parking to go to sleep.

The second day was not much different, except that there were now  more hours in the day. Meanwhile, I brought the car to another parking which was also had a fishing pier. It was only two miles down, but now I would always walk to the car instead of away from it. I was glad it was Thursday when I woke up in the back seat of the Pontiac. It would be a long day panning but we were almost at the weekend and then I would drive back to pick up Bev and Don and Richard.

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It was a long day panning and I was just approaching the fishing pier when I noticed another tributary was that was on the map but not visible from the river. I went to the bank and began to walk parallel with the river and soon I heard a stream that rustled and was completely overgrown by bushes at the out flow. I took the map there it was inevitable this was  the stream that went far inland on the map. Everything was almost impenetrable green and I realized that for a long time no one had been here. I tried to walk next to it but there was no way you could do so. I decided to step into the water and here and there try my luck at panning.. The first fifty paces were not succesful, but suddenly when spinning the last bit of water around with the last stroke of the arm, something glittered at the bottom of the pan. Every few steps I panned now and bent like an old man I moved on through the stream that once again forked and got a broader origin. It was with mixed success, you ‘d pan just sand but then you had shortly afterwards a few grains of glitter dust and once a nugget which was tiny but clearly recognizable. It was unfortunate when the sun slowly disappeared and I realized that I had to go to the car.

San Daniel 2015 

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