We went to Nose Hill Park, a huge municipal park in Northwest Calgary, a place of many sacred gathering sites for Indigenous people.

Such a generalization, isn’t it? Sacred sites for what? Which Indigenous people? How do I know anything about this?

I trust what I’ve learned from Indigenous people about the history of the land (specifically, this land), about the history of their ancestors. Physical evidence of on-going relationship with the land exists.

Many families visited the medicine wheel at Nose Hill yesterday. I saw them gathering. I gathered with my grandchildren, with my partner Tom. Sloane and Theia, ages 8 and 7, waited patiently during our minute of silence and the placement of a rock Tom gave me when we visited Lake Superior this summer. A heart-shaped rock.

“New beginnings are possible,” I said as I placed the rock. “I will be part of a new beginning.”

If the grandchildren hadn’t been there, we would have lingered. Instead, we moved quickly off the windy high ridge and into a more protected area.

We spotted a garter snake slithering across the path. We climbed trees. We collected colourful leaves. We examined coyote poop. We identified rose hips.

Nose Hill is becoming a place where we gather, too.