In my proposal to the Lilly Endowment National Clergy Renewal Grant (that has made it possible for this renewal/sabbatical to unfold in the wonderful ways that it has), I said that I would try to experience my time in Algonquin Park through my senses of smell and taste.
And so the question is this: Can you smell the sacred - can you taste it? Can you experience the sacred through your sense of small only in church when you catch a whiff of incense or the odor of candles as they are extinguished? Can you taste the sacred only when you have communion and partake of the bread and wine (or grape juice)? Can you smell and taste the sacred at other times and in other places?
Here are some of the smells and tastes that help me to realize the sacred here at our cottage in Algonquin Park.
SMELLS
1. Pine Needles - Someone long ago dubbed this cottage and its land as "Needle Point." Pine needles and pine cones, pine pitch and ageless pine trees - tall with thick trunks - are in abundance here. And what is not pine is most likely hemlock and fir. We have very few hardwoods. That delightful pine fragrance reminds me of the astounding creative power of God - and makes me just stop everyonce in a while and breathe it all in. The sheer massiveness of some of the trees reminds me of the solid and unchanging nature of God's presence. The wind whistling through the branches reminds me of the breath of God - the pneuma - the Holy Spirit - that continually envelopes and protects us.
2. The Lake - Lakes smell different than the ocean does. Instead of the salty odor of the sea is the smell of reeds growing along the shoreline and if you are here at the right time in the summer and if you can lean far over the side of the canoe without tipping it, you can catch the very subtle whiff of a water lily blossom. For me, lakes have an odor of purity - reminding me of the depth and breadth and essential goodness of God and all that God has created. How blessed we are to be a part of it!
3. Fires in the Woodstove - The smell of wood burning down to coals - warming the cabin after a morning dip, perfect now for making breakfast toast - is somehing I look forward to every morning. It reminds me of the warmth not only of my family but also of God's love.
TASTES
Meals always taste better at Algonquin. Pizza, pasta, burgers - the ones you make at home seem to pale in comparison. The ingredients might be identical, but the ahnds of everyone helping in the preparation really does make a tangible difference. Meals in Algonquin remind me that we are all connected, that we are all on this earth to live together, work together, build community together, break bread together.
Then there the foods that we only get in Canada. Their tastes will always bring me home to our cottage in the Park - to experience once again the sacredness of this place.
1. Chelsea Buns - These are the most delicious, sinfully sweet morning buns that are best lightly toasted over the coals of the fire that warmed you after your morning dip.
2. Butter Tarts - This is a wonderfully tasty English Canadian dessert treat - kind of like a miniature pecan pie with the emphasis on the filling and not on the nuts.
3. Bisquick - Yes, you can buy Bisquick anywhere, but the recipe used in the Canadian product is slightly different - with the results a whole lot better.
4. Pots of English breakfast Tea - These are seemingly endless pots enjoyed at breakfast of roaming, far-reaching conversations.
We sing a grace before each meal when the family is here together at the cottage. It is the first verse of the Johnny Appleseed grace with a second verse added on. The new verse goes like this:
When I come to Algonquin Park
I sing a song to Thee
To praise you for the glorious shore, Mr Snips*** and the flroest floor
The Lord is good to me.
***Mr. Snips was surely the BIGGEST snapping turtle ever who happened to live at our dock for a few days one summer when the children weree quite young. Naming him took some (but by no means all) of the fear of having a large snapping turtle in the vicinity of the water you swam in. Mr. Snips moved on when the activity level at the dock wsa ramped up: Gone but NEVER forgotten!
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