This is a nature poem
While driving through Mount Robson Provincial Park on a clear day in late May. This is a nature poem Train tracks run along a lake. There is a trestle in the di...
While driving through Mount Robson Provincial Park on a clear day in late May. This is a nature poem Train tracks run along a lake. There is a trestle in the di...
What we have here is a grey Burnaby day that could just as well be a grey day anywhere in the world. What we have are great heaps of mist and cloud that could s...
Years ago an unimportant and diffident man was giving a tour of a homeless shelter—of which he was manager. Requests for tours were not overly frequent and they...
When our children were small we lived on an acreage, and Deb, my wife, created her own school, called it LOOC (Learning Out Of Curiosity). A kind of unschooling...