Landscape Intimacy

I was weeping in the car. Another lost day in the mountains. “What are you looking for?” asked my husband. “A thin place.” I replied, “There are no thin places here.” Since returning from Ireland to Alberta in 2020 I had lost something very precious. I had not invested in Ireland as I should have. I let my roots linger somewhere near the surface knowing that I probably wouldn't stay there forever as some were inclined to do. What I didn’t realize was that although I didn’t attach myself to Ireland. Ireland had attached itself to me. I had experienced intimacy with the landscape in a way that the mountains here in Alberta would always defy. In Ireland, most of the landscape was easy to travel by foot, and was. Whether it was a farmer checking on his cows or Tim Robinson, well known cartographer and writer who had extensively explored parts of Ireland and had detailed maps about them. There was no way to know this vast wilderness here intimately. I didn't even know where to begin. ​