Click below to listen to the narration:
gather round...good neighbours all...and hear the tale i bring...of quiet towns and distant roads...where small bells sometimes ring...for canada is wide and wild...her cities loud and proud...but far beyond the highway’s hum...live voices soft...not cowed...i walked the land from coast to coast...a minstrel with a pack...and gathered stories seldom told...by those who don’t look back...in fundy fog the dawn rose slow...where tides like breathing rise...and fishermen with weathered hands...still read the water’s eyes...in harbourview the lantern burns...beside the salted bay...the elders say the sea recalls...each hand that shaped their day...in laurentian hills a village stands...divided by its homes...while down in gaspésie a tower...keeps time in winter’s bones...through rideau lakes the gravel winds...past fields that time forgot...the farmers speak of broken wheels...and burdens progress brought...across saskatchewan’s open plains...a grain tower meets the sky...and manitoba’s wetlands hold...the river passing by...in alberta’s foothill valleys wide...the turning blades debate...while westward in the mountain towns...a shadow altered fate...yet even in the heaviest dusk...a single candle stays...and tumbler ridge with trembling hands...still shields its fragile blaze...where forests climb toward cloud‑lit peaks...a brigade stands its ground...and on the island’s northern edge...new stewards walk the sound...in yukon’s frost bound winter nights...a solar grid brings light...and northern youth in tłı̨chǫ trails...learn what the land writes right...in nunavut a freezer stands...to share what hunters earn...a cupboard carved from winter’s breath...so none are left to yearn...so here i stand...my travels done...my stories gathered near...from lantern wharves to prairie spires...to northern...star‑bright cheer...these quiet towns...these steadfast hearts...these roads of dust and stone...they are the country’s truest pulse...the marrow in the bone...and though the cities shine with light...and towers scrape the blue...the soul of canada still walks...where small‑town voices do...