Over the Seawall
Installment two Bernadette made certain that her sister was occupied. She quickly took the certificate out of the scrapbook in the nursery and tucked it under her arm. She took … Continue reading Over the Seawall
In, around and beyond our village
Installment two Bernadette made certain that her sister was occupied. She quickly took the certificate out of the scrapbook in the nursery and tucked it under her arm. She took … Continue reading Over the Seawall
Installment two Bernadette made certain that her sister was occupied. She quickly took the certificate out of the scrapbook in the nursery and tucked it under her arm. She took … Continue reading Over the Seawall
I’m not sure what happened next, but suddenly I was running, pounding the Glasgow pavements methodically, as my rainboots jarred to the ground.
Cynefin wedi’u — an expression of one’s situation, one’s personal history that influences one’s thoughts and decisions in ways that are not easy to understand
Hugging the Bay of Fundy, the Annapolis Valley is a special sort of place.
With signs of spring emerging everywhere, we wish all our readers joy and peace this Eastertide.
Spring hides asleep beneath the white. Joy suppressed, will reignite. Optimism will take flight For now, we wait, and holding tight, We hide beneath down through the night My buried … Continue reading Crating Hope
The peace lasted a few sacred minutes and then mama began to flail. She let out a blood curdling scream that was more suited to Halloween than April Fools’ Day and then cried out. “It’s coming!”
Whether wandering with our feet or in our minds, freedom happens where we make it.
K’tzim-a-deen is the “Valley at the Head of the Inlet” (Coast Tsimshian)
February 23rd dawned early for us. The night before, the much-dreaded forecast of freezing rain had come to fruition. Our long lane was a skating rink. Impassable. Thankfully and with great foresight, Steve had moved the car to the front field, sanded the two hilly spots and left a bucket of sand near the car.
Through shadowed streets beneath flickering trees
Pulled away from a restful night and packed in
Travelling past pock marked promenades and empty playgrounds
The disco spin closes in our enclosed tin
Slowly, I begin to bond with this little cat in the stable. I sing a Scottish song to her when I bring her food, and she pricks up her ears.