since Christmas is coming, let's talk about reindeer

still from The Last Yoik in the Sami Forests?
The reindeer of Samiland are like the Canadian caribou, except the animals of North America are wild. And like the caribou, the reindeer, and the forests and tundra of the lands of the indigenous peoples of northern Europe and Canada, suffer from romanticization, exploitation, abuse, the dire effects of climate change, and human disregard and disrespect.

Does Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer know that his kin are in trouble?

Canadian caribou are in a steep decline, but does this news ring out like Jingle Bells?


"The massive Beverly herd, which roams the tundra from northern Manitoba and Saskatchewan and well into the Northwest Territories and Nunavut, once numbered about 276,000. But a just-released survey suggests the number of caribou cows on the calving grounds of the massive Beverly herd have fallen by 98 per cent over the past 14 years."


Last Yoik in Sami Forests?, a documentary by Hannu Hyvönen, tells of the effects of neoliberal corporate greed and consumer apathy on the much beloved reindeer of Samiland.

You can watch The Last Yoik in Sami Forests? on YouTube. I recommend watching the Epilogue first.

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

Urhon neljan tuulen hattu ja Utsjoen puku

Urho's four winds hat and a woman's Utsjoki outfit. On my walk today, even through the scrub bushes that my neighbour and I weasled through to get to the train tracks that run along Water Street to reach the traffic lights at the end of Bay Street, I carried Urho's hat and the dress made by his friend from Utsjoki (she is dead now) in my bag to return them to him. But he was not at the Hoito this morning for his coffee today. I wore the Utsjoki puku (outfit) on Sunday, but not the hat. He said, wear the hat, no one will know it is a man's hat. I said no, someone will know. Someone will know we are mixing genders. Someone would know right away. He even dropped the hat off at my house and left messages for me to wear it.

The 4 winds hat is not just a hat; it has a history. In the past, the 4 winds hat was criminalized. Wearing one was a crime, a sin, as Sami people were seen as pagans needing the civilizing influence of Christianity. There were witchhunts, the drums of the shamans were confiscated; people were burned at the stake. Urho proudly wears his 4 winds hat today.

a murder of crows & a pair of geese

Returned to the northshore: 2 Canada Geese mates. Canada geese mate for life, and I have read that when one goose or gander dies, its partner takes up its song. This goose and gander are on their way to slip into the water for a morning paddle. The ice hasn't broken up yet, but they've found the open water around the agitator of Pier 3 to their liking.

the foot of an elephantine balsam fir. This fir has no problem making it through the winter; indeed, it gets stronger each winter.

Backshed board in the backlane below Banning and between Ambrose and Pearl Streets. My neighbour and I like hiking up this backlane because it's so steep! Years ago, I think someone was trying out paint where no one would see. The rest of the shed is unpainted, just old weatherbeaten boards. [my neighbour, however, is still down in southern Ontario, so I went and had pancakes and scrambled eggs solo at Hoito yesterday morning. I shared my breakfast with Yrjo, an accordionist in his 80s. He's planning to do some busking all summer long by the Hoito, so he's keeping his old accordion in a shed close by, ready to play. He's originally from Samiland, and he used to be a bush pilot in Alaska and Australia, and he has many stories of his days as a sailor: New York, Beirut...].

Circling back home from my walk, I heard this murder of crows before I saw them. About 30 crows were congregating and cawing atop an old maple at the top of my street. There were more crows circling about the sky, piercing the air with the sounds of their party. Some sort of spring celebration, I think, as the temperature was well on its way to a balmy +13 c !