I went for a walk this morning, curious to see what the great storm that swept across the lake last evening had left in its wake. There were plenty of broken branches sheared from trees by the force of the wind or perhaps a lightening strike. Leaves littered the ground and floated on the lake. … More Hierarchy of Affection
When I feel particularly adrift, cast about on waves of uncertainty, ambiguity and loneliness, I take myself to a favourite park. It steadies me, the way a good anchor does. After a couple of hours of rambling in meadows and woods, walking the headland path along the lake, standing on the banks of the pond, … More Anchored to Anticipation
Like a great swath of humanity, I have been walking my way through this pandemic. I began, back in our first lockdown nearly a year ago, walking out of desperation. Confined, with a roomate to our two-bedroom apartment, I worked, slept and retreated into my room, coming out only for meals and maybe an evening … More The Miracle of Plodding
Lynda MacGibbon 