Fifteen years ago I was in a goodwill on the Island and picked up a vintage fur hood. One of the elderly volunteers walked past me and said “That’s wolf, you know.” I felt chilled and sick. I couldn’t believe it. I stood there holding it. “Beautiful isn’t it?” I bit my tongue, chewed my cheeks. I couldn’t respond to her sweetness. I bought it. It belonged to the wolf it was stolen from, no one else. It sat in a box all these years like an albatross. In January, I was sitting on a table in the costume room talking to Alex about what to do with it. “I’ll show it to you Alex, before I get rid of it.’ She shook her head “No, don’t do that. I’ll want to keep it. Bury it. Bury it where you want the wolves to come back.”
Where I want the wolves to come back. I had a few months till the ground thawed to ponder this but spring came early and with the new moon I figured it was time. Luka and I hiked way up the mountain, to the same spot where twenty years earlier, a close friend died in a car accident.
I brought a tree planting shovel and the fur in this tote. It just came in the mail as a perk for supporting Will Potter’s Drone on the Farm: Ariel Expose Kickstarter campaign. Artwork by Matt Gauck.
Someone built a inukshuk overlooking where my friend had passed. It looked like an eagle from where I stood. New wolf packs have been reported a little further north. It had been at least ten years since I last visited her here. I think she would like the company of wolves too.