Author: Sylvie Stojanovski

Sylvie Stojanovski

Go outside–preferably to a location with some plants or trees, like a forest, walking path or ravine. 

Find water (a puddle, a river or an ocean). 

Once you find water, sit/stand/crouch with water as close as what feels comfortable.

Try not to refer to water as an “it.” 

Take a moment to connect with water. 

Breathe. 

Notice if water makes a sound. Does water bubble, gurgle or swishhhhh?

Reflections are best found in still water–water that patiently waits, and listens back. Though the practice of being with water can happen anywhere. You can only see reflections in still water. 

When you find water. Look.

What do you see on the surface of water? What do you see in the depths of water? 

Sometimes, instead of reflections, you might see shadows, or ducks, or seaweed on water. That’s okay. Witnessing reflections is a practice that takes patience, and consistency. Reflections are fickle, and ephemeral. They may appear when you least expect it. 

Sit/stand/crouch with water. Be with water. 

Thank water for existing, for experiencing this moment with you.

Return as you wish.  

—

In 2020, I started a walking practice to get outside and connect with the land near my parents’ home while living in isolation due to the COVID-19 pandemic. On my daily walks through the West Highland Creek watershed in Scarborough, Ontario, I became mesmerized by reflections on water–in puddles, rivers, and lakes. I began taking photos and videos to document what I saw–shadows of tree branches, reflections of the sky, pebbles on the ground. 

Four years later, I find myself returning to the practice of witnessing reflections (though they are much harder to spot on the Blanda River as water pours out into the Húnaflói bay). In reflections, land meets water meets sky, and I am able to ground myself in the present moment, wherever I am. I hope this practice may find you when you need it most.

Sylvie Stojanovski

To get to know a place is to become enchanted by its ordinariness 

attuned to its subtleties

textures, colours, shapes, sounds, smells

textures, colours, shapes, sounds, smells

To get to know a place is to 

look out a window

open a door

step outside, 

and notice–

what has been there all along. 

—

According to Daniel R. Williams and Susan Stewart, authors of the article, “Sense of Place” (1998), a sense of place can be defined as “the collection of meanings, beliefs, symbols, values and feelings that individuals and groups associate with a particular locality” (p. 19). For me, place has been a constant in a world that feels so uncertain. 

I grew up in the same city my whole life–Scarborough–an inner city suburb of Toronto, a place of cascading ravines, asphalt roads, and meadows. Although in recent years, I’ve travelled often between Canadian cities and provinces for school and work, I found that travelling to Blönduós felt surprisingly disorienting at first. I was taken by the town’s proximity to the Blanda river. The presence of the mountains. The vastness of the sky. Unlike in the big city, where the day is met with a sense of urgency, in Blönduós, the day unfolds slowly, then all at once, like a dandelion bursting open from flower to seed. 

In this blog post, I consider what are some of the simple but extraordinary things that make Blönduós Blönduós? What are some of the things that give Blönduós its “sense of place”? What will I continue to remember long after I leave?

* Note for the reader: The title and inspiration for this blog post came from an exhibition I attended at the Doris McCarthy Gallery in 2018, under the same name. It Can Only Be This Place, curated by Tiffany Schofield, drew attention to some of the quintessential things that make Scarborough Scarborough (from its delicious cultural cuisine to its infamous blue-car light rapid transit system)… Perhaps I’ll make a post on that another day, when I return home.

References

Schofield, T. (Curator). (2018). It Can Only Be This Place. Doris McCarthy Gallery. https://dorismccarthygallery.utoronto.ca/exhibitions/it-can-only-be-this-place

Williams, D.R. & Stewart S.I. (1998). Sense of place: An elusive concept that is finding a home in ecosystem management. Journal of Forestry, 96(1), pp. 18 -23.