"Autism & Memoirs of an Old Maid"…C'hele's Story

August 7, 2009

A Mystical Welcome

Filed under: Uncategorized — C'hele @ 21:07

Mackenzie Beach - Stick Man on Island

Mackenzie Beach near- Stick man on Island 2


My daughter and I were on Vancouver Island the last four days. We travelled from Parksville right up to the Ucluelet and Tofino. We visited many beaches from Mackenzie Beach to Wikininnish Beach and of course Long Beach.

To her absolute joy and pleasure, Michaela collected various shells not otherwise found on beaches near where we live. And as we made our way up to the left side of the beach, I came upon this little island. The island had a little cleft as an entry way. And within this cleft, stood a twisted, knarled tree in the shape of some ominous figure with its arm stretched outwards to bid some willing person welcome.

The scene immediately reminded me of a favourite tune of mine sung by Loreena McKennitt:

Where dips the rocky highland
Of sleuth wood in the lake
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats
There we’ve hid our fairy vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world’s more full of weeping
Than he can understand

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light
By far off furthest rosses
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles
Whilst the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.


Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above glen car
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams


Away with us he’s going
The solemned eyed
He’ll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace unto his breast
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.

For he comes, the human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world’s more full of weeping
Than you can understand.



  1. Sounds like a magical little island. Great picture!

    Comment by Corina — August 9, 2009 @ 14:07

    • I thought it was pretty neat- Caela was creeped out by the stick figure and wouldn’t walk on the island! lol

      Comment by C'hele — August 9, 2009 @ 20:49

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