My brother motors by at 7:30 this morning. He drives a big orange beast, sees into the darkness, pushes snow like whipped cream. I'm proud of my brother and people like him who care about roads. Road planners. Road builders. Road graders. And when you live in Saskatchewan and the snow begins to blow, you really love those who know how to clear a path.
For over a year now, I've been treaty walking on purpose. One of the biggest things I've learned is that I've actually been walking a treaty road for over forty-five years, but I've been walking without seeing the road. Without knowing those planners and builders and graders. Without knowing the name of the road.
I'm so thankful for those of you who are clearing this treaty road for me. For Michael Koops, Alma Poitras, Sandy Pinay Schindler, Keitha Brass, Charlene Tupone, Cathy Cochrane, Ann Alphonse Simons, Joyce Mercredi, Bill and Mary Muirhead, Dan and Joan Bellegarde, Jade Ivan, Sue Bland, Trudine Cote, Alfred Cyr, Kate Hersberger, Steve Krause, Carol Schick, Allan Clarke, Cathy Hobbs, Lin Brown, Michelle Hugli Brass, Amber Body, and my daughters, Victoria, Moira, and Arwen.
I'm also thankful for my brother, Ian, who honks as he passes. Who warms me -- out here in the blowing snow. Who clears a path for me.