Each autumn, Wentworth Valley beckons Vilis and me to hike hills cloaked with maples, beeches, birches, and scattered conifers, the deciduous trees’ leaves painting the landscape with the flamin...
This morning I ran with Pepper, our moving presence in the forest startling a ruffed grouse into whirring flight and two white-tailed deer into graceful bounds. The puddles from the past week’s ...
Today, needing an escape from the confinement of writing at a desk, I interspersed words with hunts for autumn colour. I drove north to Tatamagouche and along the shore of the Northumberland Strait to...
The voice of a lone white-throated sparrow singing ‘Oh, sweet Canada, Canada, Canada’ rang out through dim hemlock forest as I ran our back road with Pepper this morning. It seemed like an...