Friday, August 27, 2010

There's A Land - Oh, It Beckons and Beckons

The Spell of the Yukon by Robert W. Service is one of my favourite poems.
I have always liked the easy rhythm of verse, especially because it makes his poems easy to remember!

 This is not Service's cabin in Dawson City, but one of a long-time Yukoner that lives here in Whitehorse and I love it.
What character in such a tiny little building...

Cabins like this used to be commonplace in Whitehorse and area but have fallen into decay over the years, crumbling and falling back into the earth. Not Cora's. She lovingly maintains and cares for it and it is a beautiful little gem, tucked up on the shores of Schwatka Lake, within earshot of Whitehorse.

And no cabin would be complete without the woodpile... there is a real art to stacking wood so it stays in place!

No! There's the land. (Have you seen it?)
    It's the cussedest land that I know,
From the big, dizzy mountains that screen it
    To the deep, deathlike valleys below.
Some say God was tired when He made it;
    Some say it's a fine land to shun;
Maybe; but there's some as would trade it
    For no land on earth -- and I'm one.

Tomorrow I leave and begin the journey home - should be arriving Thursday so will be able to get back to visiting all my favourite blogs - I have missed you all!


Tina Eudora said...

Oh Jillayne tell Cora she is a very lucky woman to live in such cozy splendor!
Have a happy safe trip home and I need to get your mailing address for the swap, I never did ask and I guess I will need it to mail the! I don't think writing
Jillayne B.C. Canada will work but hey who knows?
Tina xo

Dorthe said...

Dear Jillayne,
this little house is a happy one,staying there in the woods, with its own wood stack.
How wonderfull it is, The owner Cora, must be joyfull staying there.
Wish you a safe trip home, dear,-"see" you soon.
Hugs, Dorthe

Laura said...

The summer — no sweeter was ever;
The sunshiny woods all athrill;
The grayling aleap in the river,
The bighorn asleep on the hill.
The strong life that never knows harness;
The wilds where the caribou call;
The freshness, the freedom, the farness —
O God! how I'm stuck on it all...