When the rain pours down as it is doing just now, it’s easy to see the world as a dull, unfavourable place. If it lasts for more than a few days, life itself becomes dreary, muted.
I grew up in Vancouver. Those long winter stretches of grey skies and constant rain were not fun, admittedly. The shooshing of traffic over slick roads, the mucky lawns, and torrents of water, pouring through the gutters, dripping off trees.… Continue reading
The Good People of Pender Island show up on bread day with smiles. They take their bags of bread, then stand and chat for a few minutes, holding their packages against their chests. Some hurry away, saying, “People are waiting at home for breakfast!” pointing to their bags.… Continue reading
The tender crumb was brown tinged with gray; the rich brown crust was shiny, almost leathery, but tender. The aroma was dark and grainy, both lactic, like fresh cheese, and tangy, like subtle vinegar, with a hint of dark pipe tobacco. The finish was intense and the pungent acidity on the tongue was slow to dissipate, a bit unnerving, like the very first sip of some unfamiliar dark beer that makes you want to give it another try.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;Conspiring with him how to load and blessWith fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
— John Keats, "To Autumn"
Autumn, with its mists and shimmering colours, has seemed incredibly vivid on Pender this year. The startling pink morning skies, the slanting orange light of the evenings, reflecting off the peeling trunks of arbutus trees.… Continue reading