Balmoral Hall School - Optima Anni Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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A cv-0 '3 - . gp... ,,,,-......-......-.-...-....... X, -at-v'-Z -.--F 3---ai'-..--.,. ..ai1---1...--Q.-...vu-n ef -1 Lf -Y LIT! AKY 1' rm gram My roots cling to a scarred granite cliff in the Canadian northland. The Canada I know is not that of the rush in man-made cities but is the timeless immensity of nature. I have not felt or seen the devastating touch of the human hand. I stand alone overlooking the rolling forests. The sun is not trapped between skyscrapers or hidden by smoke but is re- flected by the tiny lakes and its influence is felt by all. My neighbours are the trees, animals, rocks, and insects that constitute the world of nature. Around me lie the multitudes of this different world and beneath my feet lie an eon's history, for I am a solitary jack pine standing on the peak of a cliff. My race's life is based on the sun as your race is based on the love of money. Without the sun, creation is non-existent and without a creative force one is dead. Christians believe that their Son is the creative force in their lives. My soul is produced in a search after my sun. All trees are composed of bark as skin, whether white or brown, of sap or blood, and leaves or needles as clothes, yet there are never two of us alike. Our differences lie in our shapes. My trunk and branches have been twisted in all directions in a search for the sun. Unlike a human whose soul is hidden under layers of personages, our being can be seen by all. Sunbeams have moulded my character, my form. The development of my form is my history. By studying my shape one can understand and know me. I began as a seed, a pine cone hidden in the ground - by a squirrel busy in preparations for winter, yet very forgetful of his caches. For a winter I lay in the warm soil of mother earth's womb. I felt my first sunbeam early in spring and my search after the sun began. The granules of moist earth fell from my form as my head felt the first rays of sun. As each succeeding ring was added about my trunk, my shape was changed. My branches formed, grew, extending their arms ever outward, my roots spread further away, seeking pockets of soil, and my head always pushed heavenward, towards the sun, Battles with snow, tain, and wind hardened me. With each successive storm, another member of our stand was lost. One cold, blustery night I lost the last of my companions. As the wind wailed around us he murmured, Beware: your test- ing is yet to come ! With a loud creak it split, crash- ing to the hard cold rock and Ibecame the solitary jack pine on that cliff. Before my testing came, I felt the cold of winter seeping into me, freezing my sap, enjoyed the quiet rest of the long dark days, and was again thrilled by the sun creating life within me. It was late in an August evening when the clouds which marched forward with a sound like the steady rumble of tramping soldiers. I tensed despite my education and my warnings to stay supple. Protection? None. I was alone facing the assault of the heavens. The storm drew near unhesitatingly. Then suddenly a sound came from heaven like a rush of a mighty wind and the sky was aflame with tongues of fire . I bent and swayed but the grip of my roots was loosening. Then I was falling. There was a resounding crack. I felt the wind whistling over me, no longer through

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Barbara Tarr - Glen Gairn - 1966 - '67 'Tarr - Barr' was president of Form VI for half the year, a member of the Library Executive and the choir. One of the very few supporters of Broomball in the Senior School, Barb was often found out on the ice, wondering who she would play against. ,Her plans for the future are a series of Should I or shouldn't I's , We wish her luck in whatever she decides. Nancy Taylor - Craig Gowan - 1965 - '67 'We that are true lovers run into strange capers'. Tidy, the mad raccoon, has been head of Residence, joint head of the Junior Library and door - holder for the past year. She has great plans for next year none of which she will divulge, Got 'daymich', Tai? lane Thomas - Ballater - 1964 - '67 'Glad young, mad young futurist. ' Nothing calms her love of life, not even the crutches she sported for three months. Our head of choir and editor of the Yearbook seems to have an affinity for balconies. She hopes to attend U. of A. next year and perhaps some dances. Elaine Wadham - Braemar - 1963 - '67 Our petite recipe collector plans to attend U. of Victoria next year for a course in journalism. A member of the Magazine Executive and choir, she loves music and reading and is quite a poet. This 'tres' loyal Braemarite should have no trouble spreading her musical laugh through B. C. next year. Marilyn Williams - Glen Gairn - 1963 - '67 Glen Gairn's House Head, a member of the Library Executive and choir, Marilyn plans to attend U. of M. next year, with a major in Maths. Spending half her time in the pool, she is bound to get the degree in Physical Education she ultimately seeks. A prefect and school organist, she excels in piano and enjoys figure skating. Hey, Merrill, your wig's slipping. . .

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me, and a painless relief enveloped me. Was this death? It was rebirth! I had lost my life and gained it again, My form, my soul, was almost crushed, but I had one branch still reaching to the sun. The sun forgave my proud stiffness and once again the tingle of flowing sap, life, overwhelmed me. Now, my form - the twistings of a single branch - is simple like a child's. Today I look on the same rippling sea of green life and feel beneath me the rock created by time and hope that humans as well as trees will search after the Sun. Cathy Campbell Form V :rw :-mi Doomed am I who stands on the precipice of the world, Gazing down upon the crumpled earth. My wings yet untried, ruffle and spread, And I fling my body without mirth, To the endless years of my re-birth. Soaring over the cliffs of time, Their rugged faces peering through the clouds, I swoop down towards a Kingdom Of verdant valleys, and stately trees bowed Before their creator with gentle awe endowed, Our hesitant glance, then upwards towards eternity, In sheer joy I glide towards the guiding light, My wings are strong, my path is steady, Oh! the freedom of this glorious flight! One gallant swirl, and I have attained yon home of might. Elaine Wadham Form VI om.. In a distant somewhere of green, A beauty-scented acre of warm retreat, She lay in self-devised cxileg Exuberant with joy of banishment From the perverse existence beyond those grassesg Devastator of man's golden image. Discovered she, this treasured plot of virginity, Untouched by civi1ization's bungling movements. . . . And soft was her thought of a moment far gone Recalled in this houred perfection, Though transient was such perfection For false was her dream: A time when man cared nothing of black and white Neither caused he the necessity for escape In exchange for this fleeing perfection. Shirley Litch FormV 17'.5' Flip!!! .i f -fi-x 9006 .SIA -cv fx M041-'ffiVff. up oo 0 I '35 X 4 HG. Full Many a Flavia Ten white faces staring blankly Empty tummies filled with little nothings Trite cliches Dangling participles Amalgamate discussion into oblivion. I-Iaphazard hands clutching minute threats to life Caffein trickling below to torture threadbare minds Four walls Denied doors Outward vision concealing inward tears. Sounds of singing desperately tuneless Go girls abominably obscure Crawling meanness Straight-laced seclusion Conditioned for a clock-work world. Elspeth Dempster Form VI