Life simplified out on the land

It is easy to get lost and distracted in this modern world.
Commutes, paperwork, deadlines, politics and daily gossip often complicate our daily lives.
The Internet and TV obscures our sense of place in the world. Often, we are consumed and distracted by these extraneous details that really have no impact on our day-to-day lives.
And there are the hardships we all face, related to money, addictions, family...even death.
But when you are out on the land, life is simplified. When I left for our spring camp this past April, I was looking forward to disconnecting myself from the complicated, digital world and immersing myself in the natural one.
When the helicopter dropped us off some 24 kilometres west of Moosonee, it cut us off from all connection to the modern society. Other than my MP3 player, I had nothing digital. We did not even have our analog radio - we would get no news on the NHL playoffs, the Boston Marathon bombings, or even the potential floodings of the nearby James Bay communities. All we would know in our everyday lives at that time was reduced to what we saw and experienced first-hand.
Other than the hunt, my dad, uncle and cousin and I lived to address our basic needs.
Over the course of last summer and fall, the tarp roofing to my dad’s tent-frame had partially blown off, so we were left to shovel out the snow and chip away the ice that covered our floor, which at parts was inches thick.
Shelter was our main concern at that point. We stayed at my uncle’s nearby camp for the first three nights as we worked to fix our camp. Warmth became our next concern. We cut wood and got the fire going to help thaw out the floors, dry our bedding and stock up for the next few days for once we moved in. That first evening, I dug up the spot where we usually set up our blind. The following morning, I cut trees and began to set up our blind. Later I laid out the decoys. There is no pre-determined schedule when out in the bush. Other than weather, there is no reliance on external factors.
There is no worry about alarm clocks. You get up when you want. If you wake up late, it is at the cost of shooting less geese. There is no worry about bus schedules or a commute. A walk to the blind is less than 10 minutes away.
Feeling hungry? Walk back to camp whenever you want and fix yourself something to eat.
The mid to late-afternoons are often spent relaxing at camp or doing necessary tasks.
Conversations are not about news or gossip. Instead, it is stories about the little things that happened that day.
Our blinds are relatively close, as are our camps, so we often see each other’s hunting action.
Who shot how many? Who’s out there? What happened? Why didn’t he shoot? What were you doing when the geese came? Why’d you miss?
Seeing what happens at each other’s blind is more entertaining than what we see on TV or Youtube videos.
My cousin and uncle stopped by our blind one early-afternoon and two ducks came. They landed and after I loaded my 12-gauge, I asked my dad if he was ready. No, he said, just shoot.
I got both ducks and afterwards I asked my dad why he didn’t shoot. “I wanted to watch someone have fun,” he replied.
A couple mornings later, a loner approached. It was a little high but came close to our blind. “I’m going to shoot, OK?” my dad said as it approached. I whispered ‘OK,’ and watched him take aim. I was watching the goose when he fired and saw it react and fall.It was nice to know he still had it.
I was also reminded of our traditional beliefs on our fifth day at camp. I had yet to kill a goose when I arrived at the blind that morning and a partridge glided by and landed right beside the walking path. From the blind, I shot and killed it. When my uncle came by, he asked what happened. ‘It gave its life up for you,’ he said. And I told him about my statement to the partridge when I picked it up: “Kiitchi-meegwetch, pii-nail (Thank you very much, partridge).” It was a respect for the animals my dad had taught me when I killed my first partridge when I was eight.
On the eighth day, the helicopter came to pick us up and brought us back to civilization – if it can be called that.
When I got to my dad’s apartment, the first thing I did, even before taking a shower, was check my Facebook and e-mail.
That’s the modern world for you. We’re all enamoured by the ravels of modern day technology, yet we tend to forget the practices and traditions of our ancestors.
I am an urbanized Cree person now, but the spring goose hunt brings me back to my people’s ways. I try to reconnect to that whenever I can.
Try. That’s all we can do in this ever-changing world.