It's been exactly 100 years.
Map - To Pambrun and backKilton Hill Campground, Swift Current (2 stars)
Our plan today was to tour towns south of Swift Current. We first headed for Simmie. Along the way we captured many scenes of the harvest in progress. We also visited Reid Lake, created by the Duncairn Dam. Lez spotted a deer in the bushes by the creek. In Simmie, we photographed an old church that could have been in an old Western movie. Further south, Lez shot some clips of the grain fields blowing in the wind. We visited Admiral next, which was somewhat strange and creepy. There were three churches, a beautiful brick building that looked like a hotel, concrete sidewalks and nothing else. Very few houses and no people around. We proceeded through Cadillac and into Ponteix where we had a late lunch in the bar. Great Rider memorabilia there. From there we headed north on SK 628 to the road leading to what Lee believed was the Murdoch McLeod homestead, he being the father of Anne Poulter. We took some pictures in the area and headed into Pambrun. Lee had discovered that Anne had a sister who died young and was buried in the Pambrun Cemetery. We searched and sure enough, there was her gravesite. To our astonishment standing there on August 21, 2020, we read that she had died on August 21, 1920, exactly 100 years ago to the day we were there. What are the chances!
Lez ponders: Yes, miles and miles of miles and miles. The view still changes! Very subtle changes - but it does - and do not tire of looking out at it. The cameras have been "smokin'!"
My mind wanders to a series of artsy quilts - not large ones, wall-hanging size ones. The old farmstead and a tree, the waves of colours of the grainfields that fade into the never ending land and sky. The deep dark greenery in the coulees, and the deer and antelope watching us drive by.
We could not have asked for any better weather! Virtually cloudless skies - blue against gold grain crops ripening. colours of calm, of smiles, of calm.
The feeling of comfort in this land - and the feeling that we are doing what we should be doing. Confirmed in finding the gravesite of little Margaret Jean McLeod born December 26, 1912 and died on August 21, 1920.