at the river’s edge
Posted by Margaret Horsfield
Clambering down the rocks towards the Skeena River at Hazelton took a few moments, earlier this afternoon, but I wanted to be near the water—and I was determined to be near the ice. Yes, the ice is still on the river! Great slabs of it are sloughing off, shelving steeply into the green water, and bobbing away, surfing away, downstream, in chunks as big as cars, as small as shoeboxes, and in this amazingly sunny weather, they are probably melting rapidly, just beyond sight. To watch the ice move is mesmerizing, calming, and to be so warm in this northern sunshine, watching the river melt, came as a complete surprise, an unexpected gift. The sound of the water rushing by filled the air, and I almost dozed off, but a tone underneath kept me awake, kept me alert. It puzzled me; a sound like Christmas, a sound like water glasses in restaurants. A musical note underlay the sound of the water, sometimes faintly, sometimes clearly. It was the ice.
The whole of the mighty Skeena River was tinkling. Filled with tiny ice cubes, as well as the big chunks, the river was making music.
It still is tinkling, I just went out and checked. It is tinkling right in front of where I now am, at the Hazelton public library, a lovely building perched on the very edge of the river.
In about ten minutes we will be reading to people from this community, having already all done readings at various schools, in all the three Hazeltons today. New, South and Old Hazelton—we have visited them with the greatest pleasure, and in the brightest sunshine, surrounded by the most astonishing mountains and scenery, we have met and talked to many students today.
I was at Hazelton Secondary School, with about forty high school students in the library, telling them stories of characters in my book, and encouraging them to think of the history in their own area, the stories in their own families. Since then I have visited the Hazelton museum, been to Kispiox village, and admired the restored village here in Hazelton. If only more historic locations in Canada could do this kind of preservation, this kind of restoration. I have added this to the list of places I must return to. I could learn a lot here.
But now the first guest has arrived for the evening reading. He looks about ten years old, and has come to meet Robin—they are deeply engaged in conversation about her books. Who will come in next?
