by Anita Daher
Life in the city is sometimes so crowded, especially electronically, that I lose my ability to think–to think deeply. I write this as sun filters through the blinds of my vintage trailer in the heart of New Iceland, and crows and songbirds celebrate the start of this next arc of the sun. It was cool last night, perfect for sleep. This morning’s coffee is … Read More Room to Breathe
by Anita Daher
I awoke to glorious swaths of colour glowing through the tree canopy. This is why I love it here so much–one of the reasons. It matters not that George didn’t make it by with that wire yesterday, which meant after a hard day of leaf gathering (27 bags) I had to clean up with a bowl of kettle warmed water, then wash my hair … Read More The Back and Forth
by Anita Daher
Despite inevitable draws back to the city, my goal this year is to spend much more time at my seasonal campsite. I say this as I sit in my renovated, but not yet completely updated RV, water heater pooched (George, campground handy-man extraordinaire, will replace a wire then hopefully all good), furnace off, wrapped in a blanket and typing with cold stiffened fingers because … Read More Back in New Iceland
by Anita Daher
This morning, my brain and the universe gave me a nudge. I awoke at 3:45, and after all my usual relaxation tricks failed to send me back to Nod, I moved to the sofa to avoid waking my honey. About to drop off around 4:30, the phone rang. Skip-the-Dishes. They didn’t have the potato chip flavour I asked for but would something or other … Read More Good morning, Universe
by Anita Daher
Happily ensconced at my camp site, I went for a walk this morning despite the chill temperature. Along a path there were berries not yet harvested by swarms of grackles, and rose hips. Rose hip sightings always bring to mind my Yellowknife author friend Jamie Bastedo. When our young family lived in that sub-arctic community two decades ago, he would gather those interested and … Read More Rose Hips
Anita Daher 