Clark Park...
where the buffaloes had once roamed...
where the salmon swam up a small creek...
where orchards fruited in the summer...
where Jean still lives in the house she was born in almost 80 years ago...
and remembers the crazy Russian family that ruffled the neighbourhood...
where we breathe in the green air from the old trees day in and day out...
and walk its shaded and meandering pathways...
and gather windfall branches for winter solstice warmth
for many, many years now...
all because of a generous man named Clark who donated the land in 1889...
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