Xa’xsta First Nation members drum in the spring

I missed the opportunity to post an invitation to attend a drumming event at Tipella that took place on Monday to bring in the start of spring – my apologies. (I’ve been blaming daylight saving for being off my game, but I guess I have to just embrace the difficult wake-ups and move on. :))


Thanks to Xa’xsta Douglas First Nation for sharing these photos via Facebook, and inspiring me to think about a spring-welcoming ceremony, that might shake off my daylight saving resentment, and allow me to revel in the lengthening days, the buds appearing on the trees, the blank page, the garden bed awaiting seeds.

As Philip Larkin evokes in his spring poem, The Trees:

The trees are coming into leaf / Like something almost being said; / The recent buds relax and spread, / Their greenness is a kind of grief./

Is it that they are born again/ And we grow old? No, they die too, / their yearly trick of looking new/ Is written down in rings of grain./

Yes still the unresting castles thresh/ in fullgrown thickness every May./ Last year is dead, they seem to say, / Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.


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