A place to go
by“And in my mind I still need a place to go.” Neil Young I walked down a dirt road near my home today, a…
loss
Secondhand sainthood and the gift of losing it all
byI have spent most of my life choosing to live cheaply. I make things. I grow things. But my greatest skill is finding things….
By the shores of Pigeon Lake
byThe rhythm of farm life is shaped by the passage of the seasons. In the Kawartha Lakes region of Ontario where I live, maple…
Gathering clouds
byFor several years, my 90-year-old mother has dreaded the approach of winter. She lives in wool sweaters, pockets stuffed with tissues. She wraps in…
A time to grieve
byAt the first signs of decline, I saw the illusion I’d buried in the depths of my subconscious float to the surface: I had…