Untold stories…life time commitments…farmers cutting hay.
A father runs to the hospital and hugs his wife….celebrating a new sawyer in the family.
I've spent my life with older people, learning new “old” stories, listening intently to their mistakes but itching to make my own. Yelling timb-er! was their way of expressing their freedom and their gratitude to the land. At home, the placid, steady day was peppered with small talk from the women of the borough.
The hard work and dedication of these “heroes for the land” and their reverence for nature has always inspired me. I admire their contentment in eking out a simple yet serene living, eschewing the greedy, fictitious strivings towards the unnecessary.
From the Dolomites to Toronto, I am humbled and honoured to represent the farmers, the cheese makers, the beekeepers, who wake up every morning to provide us with the joyous fruits of their labour. I am one of them. I owe them all the credit.