Vancouver Folk Music Festival memories

Shared by Elise DeGooyer on June 22, 2021
I keep looking for a photo of meeting Sheila at Stage 2 at the annual summer festival, to get a bit of shade at the Utah Phillips stage, and continue our conversation about Joanna Macy and the Great Turning. But no photo to be found, just kept close in memory. I think one image that can capture those festival years is the final set, where the closing act sings us on our way out the gates. In 2017 that was our favorite Ferron, singing Testimony. Let this be a testimony to our friend Sheila’s life and integrity, singing her on her way:
But by my life be I spirit,
and by my heart be I woman 
and by my eyes be I open 
and by my hands be I whole…

White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field - Mary Oliver

Shared by Carlos & Doreen Salazar on June 20, 2021
Coming down out of the freezing sky
with its depths of light,
like an angel, or a Buddha with wings,
it was beautiful, and accurate,
striking the snow and whatever was there
with a force that left the imprint
of the tips of its wings — five feet apart —
and the grabbing thrust of its feet,
and the indentation of what had been running
through the white valleys of the snow —
and then it rose, gracefully,
and flew back to the frozen marshes
to lurk there, like a little lighthouse,
in the blue shadows —
so I thought:
maybe death isn't darkness, after all,
but so much light wrapping itself around us —

as soft as feathers —
that we are instantly weary of looking, and looking,
and shut our eyes, not without amazement,
and let ourselves be carried,
as through the translucence of mica,
to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow,
that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light —
in which we are washed and washed
out of our bones.

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