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
A gale blew through Boundary Pass on Monday. It was a powerful storm that seemed lightweight initially but eventually packed a mean punch. The power went off around bedtime, branches fell on the roof. We huddled in bed as the storm raged outside, driving swarms of logs, smashing them into the rocks at the base of our cliff.… Continue reading
It’s interesting how a childhood experience can signify something entirely different decades later.
Perhaps your memory of a happy time turns out to be unsettling in later years. Or, as in this case, a frightening afternoon as a child turns out to be something wondrous and formative much later in life.
This happened to me on a snowy winter’s day, a Sunday in 1963, in West Vancouver.… 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
Early August is the beginning of summer mellowness. Time slows, the swallows swoop, the summer lawns hiss and whisper. The full-fledged season now stretches before us. It lasts only a few weeks, but in the end, it will seem like months.
Upbeat July fades away like an old postcard; the preparation and rush to the beaches and road-trip holidays, lawn furniture and picnic hampers loaded in the trunk.… Continue reading