February had its beautiful days

What I learned about sled dogs and their wolf ancestry in Heffron’s entertaining novel prepared me for the real life accounts of Len Budgell , a Hudson’s Bay Company Manager, posted in Hebron, Labrador, some fifty years ago when dog sleds were a reliable mode of transport. He boasted “a team of the loveliest dogs you ever saw…..They were happy to work with, and were not, as many people claim, wolfish and savage. My dogs had a very special place in my heart.” Budgell’s letters about his eventful career in the North are compiled in a treasured Blue Butterfly volume entitled, Arctic Twilight. The author gives a stimulating account of living in rhythmic harmony with the elements, the acuity of his senses matching those of his Inuit trapper companions with whom he traversed vast expanses of snow and ice between trading posts in a relentless bid for survival, his canny resourcefulness reflective of his devotion to his job. His world is peopled with larger than life characters, with owls and whales and tall stories that are nevertheless funny, sad, true and touching. Every page attests to an authenticity of being, doing and having that is nothing short of enlightened, inspiring the reader to live more fully from the heart. In my own book, Celtic Woman, I explore the meaning of ‘the knowledge of the oak’ that characterised ancient druidic spirituality. Arctic Twilight presents this way of knowing in its contemporary form. To absorb the astonishing contents of this book is to enlarge one’s sense of place and to familiarise oneself with the ever-emerging, living spirit of Canada. In reflecting on these letters, I become more attentive to the small wonders of winter that surround me-geese gaggling in shallow pools of melting snow, the silent concentration of ice fishing huts on the horizon, shadows of trees cast moon-like on a glittering carpet of snow-all seem enchanted now.

Counting my blessings as a Blue Butterfly author includes these musings about books that have thereby come my way. The world must become more Romantic, I believe, meaning that human concerns must be lifted to the higher qualitative level to which a poetic consciousness aspires and which readers are seeking more or less consciously. Three to a Loaf by Lieutenant Michael Goodspeed is the product of such a consciousness, written with a moral tact that can only be achieved through the embodiment of ideals. The author weaves a compelling story with first hand military savvy around his central character, a Canadian soldier, with the stamina to endure and survive horrendous frontline conditions and to later assume the identity of the enemy in a daring feat of espionage. Reading this book, even though it kept me up all night, page turner that it is, had a therapeutic effect because it caused me to reflect on matters far beyond my sphere of influence that nevertheless concern me. While I may absorb any amount of information about conditions of war and its aftermath today, a novel of this kind provides an integrated approach rooted in a fully human perspective, engaging the conscience as well as the heart of the reader in a process of thinking that is ultimately redemptive in nature and that promotes a peace of mind. I eagerly, therefore, await Michael Goodspeed’s next Blue Butterfly book.