Vestigial wings
And now it’s done. And now the year begins. So uncertain, so predictable. And we will run along the magnetic lines, constrained by clocks, waiting for new...
Category: Love
Hidden legacy, Broken Bread – On the passing of my mother
My mother died on Christmas Eve. In two months she would have been 92. She had a heart attack while at breakfast and was hurried to the (Yorkton) hospital. My o...
Love me, love me, love me
Having made a few loops around the sun, I’m more convinced than ever that most of this world’s malignancy has its roots in our longing for love, finding n...
Our felix culpa – happy fault
For over a decade he sat watching poplar trees through a front window. And for seven of those years he was part of a little gathering that met each Wednesday—se...