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...
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...
Like a gift from Fantasyland, the morning sky tossed up an arc of gold and pink fading into periwinkle cloud. In the dimness below it, maples cloaked with red and yellow leaves, from which chlorophyll...
Spurred on by our hiking adventure yesterday and loathe to devote this gloriously warm Thanksgiving Day to the mundane, Vilis and I hoisted a Grumman canoe atop our Ranger, dropped it off on the bank ...