For the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend it.
Quiet trees. Utter silence. Dead noise.
I swear, I couldn’t come up with anything. I just shouted and listened to my voice in the background. I suppose there’s no nice way of putting it. I could literally shout out anything and all this would do is repeat everything I’m saying.
I felt like I was so alone in the world in something. Standing outside my SUV in a parking spot in Prince Albert National Park, it’s hard not to feel alone. After all, nobody’s really going to make this place a must-see soon and no one’s dying to get up here to check out the fallen trees or the epic quietness.
Such incredible, epic quietness. I promise you, there’s never been anything like it you’ve ever experienced. Maybe it’s something that needs to be experienced by itself because it defies reason or explanation. But perhaps I’ll try here.
When I say epic quietness, what do you picture? Because I can picture it in my head what I see, but what do you see? Do you see anything? Or do you just picture it? Trust me, friends, just picture it in your head for right now. Because what I picture in my own head is not for anyone right now.
I’m talking about the lone loneliness that comes with standing in Prince Albert National Park. Drive up there to a random spot, park your car, kill the engine, and then get out. Boom. It’s a world that gives itself up to you. It takes the music in your head, the voices you might hear in a community, the steadiness that comes from fellow motorists, and the ‘insert noises here’ background noise you’ll hear in any given community and just shuns it. ALL of it. The noises I was hearing were coming from my own body, that’s how quiet it was, ladies and gentlemen!
It’s a world that is so beyond calm that I can’t even begin to describe what it is, exactly. It’s like a world that is so beyond this. A world that is there to absorb ourselves when we’re wired and stressed beyond belief. I couldn’t have come out of there without laying down some force, and in the end, I was so much better than I was before.
If it makes any sense, it was like I was on pause while life was rushing so fast by me. How far away was I? I guess I was about to find out.
I came to a sunny strip of highway and that’s when I found them. Elk. Three of them, to be exact. And they couldn’t have cared less about me being there or if I was able to shoot away maybe two dozen shots. They just ate and didn’t even look up once. I felt like I was invincible and there in the present, if that makes sense.
The rest of my day up at the park was eventful, even if not all that suspenseful. I was just there to enjoy it for what it was, man! And enjoy it, I did. Have you ever been somewhere that moulded you or provided some perspective? That’s me about now. Prince Albert National Park gave me a whole lot of perspective, even though it didn’t give me a whole lot of anything else. Does that make sense?
I remember being at certain places in the park and making sure to get out and take it all in. Who knows who has taken the time to do that before? I also remember being out and about at the park entrance and not knowing what to do because there was a building with no one in it and no one around, and yet we’re expected to pay a full day’s amount. No biggie, it’s less than $8. Then I saw the sign off the side of the highway. I felt like such a schlub.
I made sure I had plenty of water and food. Hey, don’t try and tempt me with your sign’s convenience, okay? My SUV ran on alcohol. I didn’t have to stop for any food or takeaway items because I was sure I had found them already. Nothing else was taking my attention away.
When that attention did find its way, I made sure it was on the correct things. Music didn’t matter, and frankly, neither did a sense of direction for one afternoon. Time was beginning to escape from me at this point however, so to plan this out was a question of time and understanding.
First, I knew I had to pull over and eat. Where I did that wound up being a question of pure intelligence. As soon as I’d pulled over, I looked down next to my tracks and saw that I had parked directly next to a pair of wolf tracks. So, I sat for the next 30 minutes eating my food and looking around joyfully at my new surroundings. No wolf sightings just yet, but the paw prints got me excited enough that I just about yelled.
Still though, it was pure heartly and attracting. I mean, who sees that and doesn’t think anything else?
That was basically my day up north. It felt great to get away, even if it was only for a day.
For this week, that’s been the Ruttle Report.
