The Trail of Graves
Twentieth century dates...1919, 1946, 1965.
The name “Margaret” appears often.
I am connected to this name, Margaret. When I trace my father’s ancestry back to the Eighteen Century, Bolton by Bowland,Yorkshire, Margaret and Stephen are the two names that appear most often, rippling through successive generations. The name gives me pause.
Saint Margaret, the patron of expectant mothers, was martyred at Antioch in the 4th century. Later legends told of her escape from a dragon, with which she was often depicted in medieval art. The saint was popular during the Middle Ages, and her name has been widely used in the Christian world.” http://www.behindthename.com/name/margaret
Was the first Margaret given this name by a priest, or when she went to Residential School?
One thing I know. All of the Margarets died young, too young. The oldest of four was only 31 years old.
There is a tragic beauty to this place that makes me think of those who once walked here, as I do. These women...these pearls.
Further up the trail are several cabins--one that hovers between the sea and an inland lake where the whalers once bathed before venturing out to hunt. From the veranda, you can see these fabulous pine-topped rocks.
At low tide, starfish and urchins appear between intervals of rushing water.
One of the cabins has a notice: Jewitt Lake is a sacred place. Do not go there.
The English blacksmith, christened The White Slave, perhaps by his publisher close to a century later, was adopted by a Maquinna in 1803. His journals publicized this place, these people, and their culture. Now, he is immortalized in the land.
I wish it were summer, and I could swim here in the pine-swept lake.
The cabin smells like a cedar sauna, and can be rented.
Perhaps, one day I will.