During Vilis’s and my year-long sojourn in Australia in 2010, I sometimes grew homesick for our home in Nova Scotia. At those times, surrounded by brilliantly-coloured parrots and lorikeets, I i...
At 9 a.m., snowflakes fluttered down in thin confusion, no longer yesterday’s dense, wind-slanted sheets of dry, white precipitation. Diminished residue of a vast snowstorm that yesterday swept ...
This morning, beneath a sky overcast and still (the lull before the snowstorm forecast for tomorrow) I walked to the Balmoral Grist Mill, a heritage building dating from the late 19th century and loca...
In deep, still cold before sunrise, I walked our .75-kilometre access road, the temperature -20°C, the air clean and searing, the snow squeaking beneath my boots as only cold snow does. No sound brok...