I just returned to Edmonton from a very quick trip to Kananaskis Country, a place I raved about a few blog posts ago. I’ll therefore try to restrain myself from raving about it again. Although, with its towering mountains and quiet roads dotted with deer, moose, and the odd grizzly bear, it’s hard not to fall in love with it.
There is, however, something to be said for locales where it doesn’t snow in late-May. This morning I peered outside my cabin window to discover that a good 15 cm of the white stuff had piled up overnight. It did, however, make for some pretty pictures. Like this one.
So how did I get to know and love this place? Glad you asked. I used to work there, some 7 years ago, as a Park Interpreter. Basically, the government paid me to take people on hikes, talk to them about bears and hummingbirds, and put on fun shows in the campgrounds at night. Looking back, it was a sweet, sweet deal.
But lest you’re imagining said campground shows to be snory lectures on how to tell bighorn sheep and mountain goats apart, let me set you straight. K-Country amphitheatre shows are not your run-of-the-mill productions. We’re talking Broadway in the Rockies here. The interpreters spend weeks writing scripts (rife with natural history puns and pop culture references), constructing puppets and costumes out of foam and contact cement, and creating songs with professional musicians.
Seriously.
That summer, I was lucky enough to be paired with actress Vanessa Holmes, who has since gone on to garner serious accolades in the world of Canadian theatre and film. Vanessa is a star, and together we put on a show all about corvids (the crow and jay and raven family) entitled … wait for it … Harry Squawker and the Nest of Secrets.
I played the young and awkward Harry Squawker. Vanessa played various hilarious characters from Dumbleraven to Hermionutcracker. My personal favourite, though, was one Bobby Blue Jay, a corvid with a Boston accent who took Harry under his wing (pun no. 47) to teach him all about mating.
In song.
The chorus, written by yours truly, went like this:
Preen and puff, and flex your wing,
Make sure she can hear you sing.
Find your perfect match. Until the eggs hatch. (Uh.)
Preen and puff, and flex your wing,
Make sure she can hear you sing.
Short lived romance (uh uh) is a beautiful thing.
Now. Do day jobs get any better than this? I ask you.
