Kathleen KinchBarrister & Solicitor - Kinch Eddie Litigation Professional Corporation
Kat's Story :
I really love driving the country roads through Trent Hills. I love how the highways unspool like ribbons over the tops of the hills. I love how the bright yellow line runs ahead to cornfields miles off, how each weathered barn feels like a landmark. I love that each stand of trees is its own glade of secrets, a dappled chapel of trilliums, ashaded shelter for deer and wild turkeys. I love how I feel at the wheel, headed home to my own family, steering through familiar turns and driving through the land where I think most clearly and find my best ideas.
I loved how it felt as a new driver more than twenty years ago, whipping along in a truck through the summer night air with the window down and the music loud. I loved my place in the passenger seat with one of my best friends as she drove us home from winter dances, when the dark sky was briefly lit by the Hale-Bopp comet from distant reaches of space, stationed right above us in our own
Every time I go to court I drive out through those roads, getting centred, getting ready, getting pumped, getting focused. By the time I get to the courthouse, I’ve argued the case twice over in my head, I’ve taken the question from the judge that flips the direction of my submission and found a way to lead back to my point, I have done a whole rehearsal of the day to come before I take my foot off the gas. A favourite song turns into a good sign for the day ahead. A dashing coyote at the fenceline, a partridge in the ditch, canola fields in bloom: all of them are lucky, and fun, and energizing, for the advocacy ahead of me.
Every time I come home from court I drive back on the same roads, each stretch increasingly familiar even as night falls over the hills, the houses lit for evening filled first by strangers, then by neighbours and friends. I love listening to the CBC while I drive,when I return to the wider world, quiet the day’s argument and welcome in other stories, different ideas. I love the last roller coaster hill on the way into town, the long lazy curve into the darkened village, the pine ridge a deep shadow against the fading sky. I love the crunch of the wheels making the turn into the driveway, and the brief moment of silence when the engine goes off, before the spring peepers’ calls come rushing in.
I love how all the country roads lead back to our own yellow kitchen lights, at the end of a long day, in spring.