Winter Morning, Charlevoix County by A.Y. Jackson (1933)

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Winter Morning, Charlevoix County by A.Y. Jackson is as marvelous as the dream of a child. The sheets of snow cover the landscape of rolling hills and dull mountains, and the drift is coated with the warm glow of morning sun. A rugged line of seemingly parallel fences winds up and down with the hills and tall wooden posts follow along one side of the fences. Houses are in the distance, but too far for the person who is seeing the terrain to get to by foot.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Likewise, the dreams of children are set aglow with the warm glow of their imagination, and the journey they take on their dreams is a long, winding, and eternal path in which they can never find rest despite long travels. They go alone because their imagination is inexpressible through mere words or drawings. It is too full and extraordinary to share even if they tried.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎The snow is soft and gentle at first, and as it falls delicately onto the landscape, it only piles up. Children’s storybooks and films fill not only the heads but the hearts of those who listen and allow every lovely idea to compile to their collection of beautiful events and memories that may never have happened.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎But soon enough the snow stiffens, and its powdery fluff turns into a kind of stiff ice that is no longer pleasant to travel through nor play in. As the sun’s warmth embraces the landscape each day, the soft orange, yellow, and red glow reflects itself on the snow in vain, knowing fully that it will not melt the snow for a long time, rather harden it.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎And when the time comes for the thickened ice to surrender to spring, the snow melts into streams of water, and the trees shake off their white coats, and the hills begin to glisten with the hazy, pale green grass. As children find their dreams fading into reality, the coats of glistening white coats of snow melt away, leaving them to see the barren dirt road and the luscious hills teeming with life.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎The sun continues to exude its radiance, a constant reminder of the reality of the landscape’s existence before them.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎By the sun’s light, there is hope. Its glow shines onto the very real possibilities of reality, and as the county melts from winter to spring and children’s thoughts from dreams to actuality, the county ages and the children mature. The thoughts keep wandering, and they follow the winding road until they reach rest.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎And until their children’s children, there are three other seasons to the wandering that are implied but not depicted in this scenery. In this one captured moment, there is a story of eternity that can never be explored to the end.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Canadiana captures many of these moments, and wanderers of the stories within its arts, music, literature, and biographies will find themselves walking alone on a desert road with the sun rising over them each morning.