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Tom Thomson
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Follow the Journal of My Last Spring on nostr. Tweeting in real-time from 1917

I walk up to @mowatlodge. I start organizing for the trip. I'll need to rent a canoe from Shannon and buy the provisions too.

In Toronto I took my midday meal at the local lunch counter.

Americans think we are like the British. The British think we are like Americans

I was a diligent and talented designer but it was my colleagues who convinced me to become a serious painter.

Dinner has been served. I am late, but Annie has set out a place for me. She knows I would return.

I spread my coat over the balsam. Time to nap.

Brant arrives today in @algonquin_pp #migratorybirds

Orange-Crested Warbler arrives today in @algonquin_pp #migratorybirds

Jackson had only known me for a year - but I became his best friend.

Americans think we are like the British. The British think we are like Americans

Turning out to be a great afternoon of fishing.

It's calm and bright. The water is like glass. My paddle slices through the reflection.

I listen closely, I can't hear what Annie is saying, but I can sense the tone of desperation. Something's wrong.

I fell asleep, but was awakened by a banging and shouting. Shannon's back.

The land that raises you will always be a part of you.

Philadelphia Vireo arrives today in @algonquin_pp #migratorybirds

Scarlet Tanager arrives today in @algonquin_pp #migratorybirds

It was in Algonquin Park that I found my real home.

I would accompany my Uncle Brodie for extensive hikes in the ravines, along the Scarborough Bluffs

We hear the peepers by the shore, a loon on the lake. Small waves lapping up against a dead tree stump and rocks.