Gordon Harrison is the author of several books on nature, science, religion, and art. When he isn’t writing, or drinking Glenmorangie single malt scotch whiskey, he’s photographing the “endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful” as Darwin said of the Ontario hinterlands.
I was blessed—I was born with wolves! If not in our house, then wandering about our orchards and our barns and through our few fields. We had a home in the wilderness of Central Ontario: no electricity, no running water, no indoor toilet. We did have running wolves and ambling bears. And I loved that place.
On late summer evenings and fortunate winter nights, silver forms would sing from the hills and valleys. On these occasions, somewhere in our rambling old house with two staircases, under warm blankets, a child would lie transfixed in mystery and enchantment. Here was another nation, a different civilization, who needed nothing from us, distrusted us, even hated us. And rightly so.
We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. Thornton Wilder, The Woman of Andros I was blessed—I was born with wolves! If not in our house, then wandering about our orchards and our barns and through our few fields. We had a home in the wilderness of Central Ontario: no electricity, no running water, no indoor toilet. We did have running wolves and ambling
I was blessed—I was born with wolves! If not in our house, then wandering about our orchards and our barns and through our few fields. We had a home in the wilderness of Central Ontario: no electricity, no running water, no indoor toilet. We did have running wolves and ambling bears. And I loved that place. On late summer evenings and fortunate winter nights, silver forms would sing from the hills and valleys. On these
