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20 September 2009 | Category: Stories | Author: Clare

Thankfully the cycle of Scottish weather has broken. The grey skies and wet days are already forgotten in the bonnie blue that I will always associate with Canada.

Though generally impervious to water (a pre-requisite to being Scottish), I was really disturbed to see it dripping through the floor. ...[Read More]

The back forty

19 September 2009 | Category: Stories | Author: Clare

I wandered up to the back corner of the property a couple days ago; ‘up’ being the formative word; it is quite the climb, and I was out of breath by the time I found what I was looking for.

The trees are so thick that the chatter of the Valley is subdued, and as you walk into the fold of the forest, even the air changes; the kind of atmosphere that leaves your skin cold and damp, despite the heat elsewhere. ...[Read More]


18 September 2009 | Category: Stories | Author: Clare

Thinking about losing my power saw, tools, etc, still makes me angry; I only wish I had trained Bertha to bite an unfamiliar operator! I am grateful however that they did not vandalise the site, or damage the trailers; and I am relieved that they left the trusty pipe wrench (who now has good company in the much revered sledge-hammer!).

To steal from someone is absolutely wrong, but the severity of my response surprised me; something in the pit of your stomach turns over, and you cannot put into words how wronged you feel. ...[Read More]


17 September 2009 | Category: Stories | Author: Clare

Just as the mix of animals is changing with the seasons, so are the birds. The lonely herons have taken their searching elsewhere, the dive-bombing humming birds are gone and we have watched the geese fly over; now it seems we are seeing more eagles than in the early summer. ...[Read More]

Like a river

16 September 2009 | Category: Stories | Author: Clare

Sometimes it seems like I am in a canoe on a fast, wide river. I have a paddle, but it serves only to give me stability in rough water, I have no real control over the speed at which I travel, or where I will ultimately end up.

I rush by beautiful scenery and wildlife. The images flit by too quickly to grasp, or let memory form. Though I feel like I am navigating the river, the river is navigating me. ...[Read More]