Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With 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
We look across Boundary Pass and see the dark grey forms of Stuart, Waldron, and Orcas Islands. The San Juans. The United States of America. And it happens, on the day I write this, our friends on the other side are facing big decisions about who they are and who they want to lead their country.… Continue reading
Let’s take a moment to celebrate and revel in Pender Island’s apple heritage. The island, after all, is awash in apples at summer’s end. Apples of all sizes and varieties. They come from beautifully tended orchards that produce many tonnes of fruit.… Continue reading
The Song of Oswald, my unpublished novel set in 14th century England, has three main characters. Richard is the dour monk, ejected from his abbey at the beginning of the story, a bit of a sad-sack. Oswald is Richard’s long-lost brother, a renegade, a “Robin Hood” character, the polar opposite to Richard.… Continue reading
You can see it in paintings from the old world, an enormous loaf on a table along with roasted meats, overflowing bowls of fruit, flagons of wine. The bread is rustic, crusty and the sight of it, along with everything else on the table, evokes taste, aroma, a sense of plenty, celebration.… Continue reading