Mather

I'm often asked where we go for our holidays. To the city?  Nope.  We go deeper into the wilderness, usually by canoe.  This year we decided to spend the first part of our time off at a little cabin by a lake.

3am: BOOM!  Rumblerumblerumble! I'm dragged from deep sleep, from complex dreams.  Then I remember I'm asleep in my little log cabin in the woods - safe under the roof, within walls. Cosy and warm under the covers.

Were you sweating out in the garden in Wednesday's +31 C heat? Or has the sudden temperature drop in the last few days got you covering the garden at night?  If you have been paying attention to news stories over the past few years, you shou

I've just returned from a wonderful canoe trip about a half hour north of Cartier. We had three of those beautiful sunny days of May before the blackflies came out.

Frogs, frogs everywhere!  Who doesn't recognize the excited call of the spring peepers? Even more so than the arrival of the first robin, the chorus of frogs at lakeside and wetlands truly brings hope that spring is really here.

When you make a list of things to take along on a camping trip, what are the chances an umbrella will top the list? Not good, you probably answer.

Living as I do out in the middle of the forest, people sometimes ask me, am I afraid of the bears? No, I answer. The bears are afraid of me. I find it a little sad that so many creatures of the forest are afraid of us.

As I packed for my annual solo canoe trip last week, I asked seven-year-old Kate if she would like to come along. She said yes, so I stuffed the pack for two.

Ok, I was wrong about how long the ice would last. When I wrote last week's article, the ice was good. I had the snowmachine parked out front of the sauna.

August evenings give the first hint of the end of summer. Days are noticeably shorter, the sun sets earlier than just a few weeks ago. An evening boat crossing of the lake at 10:30 pm in June was a delight of pastels in the southern sky.