In collaboration with Unleash Press, the Leighton Art Centre is thrilled to present a new installation of land-based writing throughout our breathtaking 80-acre property. Since January, we have welcomed submissions across all genres, each under 300 words, that responded in some way to nature, place, and the environment around us.
This project was created with the intention of encouraging visitors to slow down, explore their natural surroundings, and engage more deeply with both the landscape and the creative works they encounter along the way. By weaving writing into the land itself, the installation invites moments of reflection, curiosity, and connection between art, nature, and community.
After receiving more than 60 submissions, five outstanding works have been selected for installation at the Centre by June 6. The completed project will officially be unveiled during the Leighton Art Centre’s Clothesline Art Market on June 6 & 7, where visitors will be invited to experience the works across the property. Following the launch weekend, the installation will remain available for public viewing throughout the summer season.
We are excited to announce the winners whose works have been selected for installation:
Yesterday I had to fill out a government form that required my driver’s licence number. When I typed it in I got a pop-up telling me my licence had expired. I gasped. I had intended to make a ‘note to self’ about that but totally forgot. Early the next morning I headed to the registry office and presented my licence for renewal. The woman glanced at it and cocked her head.
“Oh,” she said. “You’ve just turned 75.” I nodded. “That means you need a letter from your doctor to certify that you passed the cognitive test and are cleared to drive.”
“Oh,” said. My doctor’s office was on my way home so I stopped in and was relieved that they were able to book me an appointment that afternoon. I had no idea what a cognitive test was and was a bit apprehensive. The nurse who administered it was encouraging and I got through it without any difficulty. I presented my results to the doctor who congratulated me and printed out the form. Back to the registry office and within a few minutes I was legally a driver once again.
This whole procedure made me think of one those “only in the Yukon” stories. I was walking down the boardwalk on the main street of Dawson City one day as the tourist season was just getting under way.
A friend pulled up beside me in a bright orange van and offered me a ride. He had just returned from down south (or “outside” as we Yukoners called it), and he was anxious to get back to work on a construction sight. “But I have a problem,” he said. “I stopped to visit a friend in Calgary on my way up, and somebody stole all my tools. Wanna buy my van?”
I laughed. “Bob, I don’t even know how to drive!”
“No problem! He said. “I’ll teach you! I really need to sell this van so I can buy the tools I need to go back to work. I’ll give you a great deal!”
In the end I felt sorry for him and agreed. We drove to the bank and completed the transaction. Over the next few days Bob gave me driving lessons. The day came when I thought I was ready to take a driver’s test, so I went to the small RCMP office. The constables were not there. I tried again the next day and the next, and the next. There were only two constables in town at that time, so they were almost always out on a call. About a month later I saw one of the constables on the street and told him I really needed to take the driver’s test. I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my van at the time.
He nodded. “Yeah, you do need to do that!” He said. “Come by tomorrow morning.”
The office was, once again, empty but for the receptionist. That went on all summer long. I saw that same constable every now and then and he would always say, “Yeah, come by tomorrow.”
The summer was almost over and I was moving to Whitehorse for the winter. Once again I saw that constable on the street, and told him I really did need to get a licence to drive. Once again he told me to come by the next day. The next day the receptionist shook her head.
The next day I drove to Whitehorse (a six hour drive). I made sure I left early enough to get to the registry office before they closed. I did not know any of the constables in Whitehorse but I was pretty sure they would not be very understanding about me driving without a licence. I passed the test, got the registration and new plates. At last I was legally on the road!
As I said, “Only in the Yukon!”
This may be one of the stories that will be part of my new book, Flecks of Gold. We are now sitting at 37% in the crowdfundr campaign, with 21 days to go. I am SO grateful to all those who have already contributed to helping me see this book become a reality.
When we hit our next milestone ($2,000, which is the half-way point), another draw will be done for a hand-made felted landscape of the Yukon River, made by yours truly. Actually I’ve done 2 feltings of the river, so you’ll get to pick the one you want. Everyone who participates will be entered in the draw.
If we had heard a weather forecast, we might have stayed home. It was only about 35 below when we headed to town, but by the time we came out of a meeting, close to midnight, it had dropped to minus 65. Our truck would not start. Neither would the other vehicles parked outside. As I watched from the warmth of the doorway, my husband and a few friends donned some unusual head gear and hovered over the one truck they thought might rise to the occasion.
Their head gear, hats woven of warm Alpaca wool, had tall peaks with tassles on the ends and long tapered ear flaps that bobbed with each step. They made the guys look a lot like Santa’s elves. None of them realized how comical they looked, as they scurried around the truck, trying to get it to start. Someone produced a propane torch to heat the oil pan. Someone else produced a tarp to cover the hood. Then we all huddled in the doorway, hoping for success. We cheered when the motor roared to life before catching on fire! As we crammed into the cab for the trip home, the guys left their hats on, still oblivious to how they looked.
We had only gone a few miles when we saw a faint light. It burned for a few moments, then died. We leaned forward as it appeared again, directly ahead. Our driver slowed down as we got closer. The dim light flashed one more time and we realized it was a truck in the middle of the road. All of us piled out as we pulled to the side to investigate. The truck door opened, and a young woman peered out. Her lips were blue, her bare hands, wrapped around a small kitten, were white with frostbite. She tried to swing her legs out but needed help. When she stood up, her feet, clad only in running shoes, wouldn’t move. As the men lifted her into our warm vehicle, I noticed she looked at them with an odd expression. It wasn’t until later we discovered she thought she was hallucinating. She didn’t expect to be rescued by a band of Santa’s elves!
Psalm 118:5 says – “In my distress I prayed to the Lord and the Lord answered me and rescued me.” Rescue. In the nick of time. If we hadn’t been on the road that night, that young woman would have died. I don’t know if she prayed, but, in desperate situations, most people do. Unfortunately, most of us don’t recognize we are in a desperate place when we are without God. We depend on things like trucks with heaters, refusing to believe they might break down in the worst places at the worst times. We think we are safe when in reality we are on the brink of disaster.
God is in the rescue business, and we all need to be rescued.
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This story is one that will be included in my upcoming book Flecks of Gold, Yukon Stories
I’m very excited to let you all know that the Crowdfundr campaign for the book is now live. This book is a compilation of stories about my personal experiences in the Yukon, with a bit of poetry and fiction thrown in for flavour. The campaign will launch on my birthday, May 4th.
To be notified when it goes live just click the SUBSCRIBE button at the top of the crowdfundr page.
I’m excited about all the perks being offered, including some unique Yukon items.
Those who mourned most deeply had loved most deeply.
Not all the disciples attended the crucifixion. John was there, the one called “the most beloved,” and Mary Magdalene, the one freed from the torment of demons,
We can frown at the others, call them cowards, shame them for giving in to their fear. But would we do anything different? I fear I would not. I would not want to attend the execution of a man I had followed and honoured for three years, a man I believed was the one who would remove the oppressive yoke of the Romans from my neck and that of my family and friends. I don’t think I could bear it. My sorrow would have been, as I’m sure it was for those disciples, tangled up in fear and disappointment to such an extent that I would withdraw and hide, as they did.
So I have compassion for them. They didn’t understand. Perhaps there were things in their past that prevented them from being there to support Jesus in the midst of his tortuous death. Perhaps they had seen other friends crucified and just couldn’t face watching it again. We don’t know, so judging them puts us in the category of those who show no compassion, no empathy. And since it was Jesus Himself who modelled those behaviours, it would be good to take note and do the same.
Our church has recently started a program called grief share. We gather each week, watch a video about some aspect of grief and then talk about our own experiences. The group is varied, young, old, recently grieved and a couple whose loss was years ago.
It has been good for me to be there, though I have not recently been in that place of loss. Listening to those who have has infused compassion and empathy into me in a way I did not expect, in a way that has changed me. And I am grateful.
Jesus commands us to love in ways that are not always easy. Love your neighbours, even when they’re cranky, love your enemies even when they do despicable things like lie and slander those who are innocent.
There is only one way to obey such commands – rely on Him for the strength and wisdom to do so. Proverbs 3:5 tells us – Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.
He will enable us when we open our hearts, minds and souls to His leading.
The day was bright and sunny with just a touch of crispness to it. It was the kind of morning that should have lifted my spirits but as I gazed out the window, my thoughts were far away and all gloomy. I sighed and tried to prepare for the day ahead. I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy one. I glanced at the calendar. The words, “Good Friday” made me sigh again. There would be a church service in a couple of hours, then the funeral for a friend immediately afterward. As I got ready I prayed that the Lord would help me get through it all.
I heard the birds as I was eating breakfast. At first I didn’t pay much attention. There is a large tract of bush on the other side of our street, so we hear the birds every morning. By the time I was ready to head out our front door, I was wondering why the birdsong was so loud. As I stepped out into the fresh spring air, I was astonished at the reason. The entire bush across from me was full of robins. They flitted from branch to branch and tree to tree, singing. I stood and watched and listened and suddenly my spirit was lifted. A verse of scripture that can sometimes seem so impossible came to mind. “My grace is sufficient for you.” (2 Corinthians 12:9) I was witnessing an act of grace, a gift given in reply to a plea for help. The gift worked wonders.
I don’t know if robins usually move about in large flocks. Perhaps it’s part of their migration pattern, but I have never seen a flock like that before. I’ve always looked for that single robin that heralds the coming of spring. I would never have dreamed of looking for over a hundred of them. Perhaps God knew that’s what I needed that day – something unusual and delightful, something that would take my breath away. As I drove to the Good Friday service I realized that it’s just like Him to do something like that. He has said that He does not only want to give us life, but He wants to give us abundant life, a life full of delightful things like birdsong, to banish the gloom, a life in which the darkness of death is overcome by the blazing light of life.
“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.” (Ephesians 3:20)
I met with two friends for lunch yesterday, in between reading my children’s book, Merrigold’s Very Best Home to a bevy of beautiful little 3-5 year olds. We met to discuss an idea that seems to be catching fire right in front of me: a new book of Yukon stories, to be launched on my 75th birthday, which is coming soon. We were in the middle of the discussion when one of my daughters sent me this text: “Happy Yukon Heritage Day, Mom!” Yes, a God wink, methinks. Here’s the proposed cover. What do you think?
marcialeelaycock.com 