| My Vision Quest
By Daniel J Towsey
The Visionary Folk Photographer
My vision quest takes me to a time when nature was pure.
I will now take you back to a time before the white
British European man arrived in the New World and caused the Indian Wars.
I have a vision of a small happy and healthy Mi’kmaq village set on the panoramic shore
of the most pristine and beautiful Cowbay in what came to be known as Nova Scotia. Canada.
This once pristine place that was full of natural wildlife
has now been named Heritage Park.
There was a brave young Mi’kmaq.
He had reached man hood and needed to find is understanding of his human nature.
His elders told him what he had to do.
He was told no human words could give him the answer.
The wise elders told him that he had to go on his vision quest.
The brave Mi’kmaq had to find his natural balance.
As in the laws of nature.
Only the strongest survive to perpetuate the continuation of its species.
Not all braves come back from their vision quest.
He was very quiet and contemplative.
He loaded his pack with supplies, took his knife, Bow and Arrow.
began his long walk into the wild to seek his vision of understanding.
He walked and walked.
Never saying or hearing a human word.
He listened to the natural world.
His soul was lost to all that is natural and healthy.
He knew he needed to get in balance with nature.
He walked for endless miles through the forest of life.
He began to see and hear the wonder of the natural world.
He then began to get in balance with his natural self by
finding his place amongst the families of the natural world.
The crawling insects, singing birds, the fluttering butterflies,
the stealthy fox, the majestic moose, the gentle growling giant black bear,
the aquatic creatures of the bay.
He sat on the shore of the bay and watched the power of the lighting storms.
He sat on the shore of the bay and watched and contemplated the wonders of the magic hour.
He sat on the shore of the bay and watched the most beautiful show of nature a creature could ever see
as the northern lights orchestra conducted in the heavenly sky over the bay.
He hunted and ate, and was always thankful to the spirit of the creature that
gave its life so he could survive.
He always took that creatures soul and free spirit and made it part of his soul.
He was never selfish, he need not to be when he was part of the so perfect natural world.
He spent years and seasons on his vision quest.
Until one day he returned to his village a wise elder.
And his eyes saw a most unnatural sight.
A white man had arrived at his village.
And the rest is the history of the destruction of all that was natural and beautiful.
Now a young native brave can no longer go on vision quests.
For now his vision is so blurred with tears of sadness.
For the white mans unnatural spirit has grown so powerful from
the abundance of wildlife and wilderness he has so completely consumed.
The wise elder’s vision is so poor now.
His vision has become so permanently blurred with tears from watching
the young braves all perishing because the white mans greed has left
no natural nourishment for his braves.
The wise elder can now only try to share his visions with his offspring
through human words, for there can never be another vision quest.
The once natural balance of nature is only but a vision of a wise elder.
He now can only share tears with his offspring.
For he knows that his offspring will never again be able to go on a vision quest.
The elder knows that words could never give his offspring the
understanding that comes from a vision quest.
The wise elder sits on the bay and cries another tear as another brave dies
as his village get smaller and smaller.
Until one day all that remained was the elder sitting by himself on the bay.
Then one day the wise elder drowned and died in that bay filled from his tears.
Now we only have Heritage Park Left.
The Mi’kmaq and all the natural living breathing life is all but gone...
As I walk through Heritage Park taking pictures
and see some remnants of wildlife I can only see a bay of tears.
For I realize that something so natural and
vital has perished.
The natural family of nature is gone.
So as I photographically document my vision quest and
travel miles and seasons and years.
My vision blurs with tear drops for there are no longer
any braves to hear of my travels in nature.
As I sit here on the bench overlooking the panoramic view of Heritage Park.
I do not hear the screams of the
young native children running in the village pretending to be a braves.
All I hear is the far away constant noise of the wheels of progress
destroying the tranquility that nature once offered.
It pains me so when I publish online my most beautiful
images of the remnant of natural beauty that once was.
And discover that people care not to enjoy my vision quest.
For most people are so far from being natural
human beings that they can not see
nature at all.
Heritage Park Should be Named Mi’kmaq Heritage Park
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