(frost meadow, Bow River Parkway a few days ago)
A day in the studio, after a quick tour around the ‘heritage homes’ in Banff – old log cabins, quite luxurious, where some important members of the town once lived. They donated their dwellings to the Whyte Museum (one family, indeed, were the arty Whytes themselves). I hope to go back and take a look in the much smaller cabin that was built in the late 1800, that looks like a small shed and which would have housed a whole family.
But that is for another day. The snows have fallen again here, and once again the pines are dusted with it. Yesterday I went on a tour of the Banff Springs hotel, but the information was all on the surface – the types of stone, the construction process. Far too hard and dry to sink my teeth into. So for now, I’m going to sit with the novel draft and type at it. Stamped and ugly sentences just for shape. It’s a good thing everything else is so stunning. The landscape, and even my clumsy photographs of landscape, my half-hooded glances and memories, forgives me of any brutal writing mistakes.