After a long, wet winter, spring’s light and warmth are a welcome relief. But, for me, it’s also a mixed blessing. A stirring time of year when the earth’s renewal is no longer a mere promise but something tangible.
There’s a different cast of light now. That patina of green you see around the trees and brush is a sign that the sap is stirring, that the weather is warming.… Continue reading
Standing in front of Mildrith in the early hours has given me a few spine-tingling moments. The night is at its darkest. I’m alone; I’m the only one awake in the world, well, at least the only one on my small road on South Pender Island.
Any noise I hear is magnified, exaggerated by the darkness, and made more dramatic, haunting.… Continue reading
It’s apple season on the Island of Apples. Branches are bending with the weight of the glorious fruit, the air of the orchards sweetened with apple scent. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, and all that. We are deep into autumn now.
Our lone apple tree produced no fruit this year. No tubs are waiting to be filled, and I’m on the hunt for apples to knead into my bread dough.… Continue reading
Most days, making bread happens by rote, with a tight schedule of measuring, mixing, shaping, and baking. My mind can be tranquil while my hands are a blur, punching and kneading the dough. Or slicing off chunks with the bench knife, balancing them on the weigh scale, and turning them into sensuous rounds.
What will you have for breakfast this Thursday, June 16? Anything special?
I’ll probably have a slice of toasted Seed Feast loaf from last week’s bake with a smear of peanut butter and pour-over coffee. I’ll raise my first steaming cup to Jennifer and wish her a happy Bloomsday.… Continue reading