Laurens van der Post once wrote about an idiosyncratic elephant walking through the African bush. I may be wrong in this story but I think it occurred in his book “A Walk with a White Bushman”. Whether or not it is true or not I have no idea but I like it and it seems …
(Being a follow up from “Muskrat and the Trumpeter Swan” published January 15th, 2025) The river which had flowed so purely for hundreds of years was suffering a change. Since time immemorial, animals had found their way to the pure, cool waters to drink and bathe and recreate. The lilies had floated on the surface, …
The flight from Vancouver was short. The children and the staff were excited. Collingwood School was headed north to witness the Inuit Games. Traditional Inuit sports which brought in teams from the 11 or so regions of the High Arctic. None of us knew what to expect. Sara* the teacher had a contact who had …
I left school in 1970 at the age of 18. I first set foot into the real world with a façade of confidence, five years at boarding school having taught me how to conceal the real me. Through a variety of connections and youthful laziness, I managed to find a job as an hotel porter …
Like many independent schools, Collingwood hosts an annual Spring Fair as a fund raiser. It is a fun-filled joyous occasion. (Well, as I write this, I have the memory of the sickly taste of whipped cream about my features because young children used to pay money to put a plate of whipped cream in my …
A few years back I blundered into a local coffee shop and before I could think about ordering, the young barista asked me, out of the blue, what I would do if I won the lotto. We had never met so I was somewhat confounded by the question but not so confused that an answer …
The river and the riverbank needed each other. Without the bank there would be an inundation and a lake, without the river there would be no wet and an arid desert. They were two different worlds but, of necessity, linked. The tadpoles, the frogs, the ducks and the swans made the river their own. In …
As I entered my teens some 60 years ago, there was a moment when I discovered that I liked poetry. I no longer like poetry, I love poetry. Poetry has been my comfort and my joy for so long. On solitary walks I will recite poems I have memorised to myself. If I am unlikely …
Aaah, Dear Friends, let me introduce Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Some of you may have heard of him and, no doubt, all of you would like to pronounce his name. Young Grant Harder, a name you probably can pronounce, is the only person I know who can say his name properly. I will try to get in …
Here in 2024, the recent November 11th Remembrance Day arrived on a Monday. Here in North Vancouver, Irene, Grant and I attended the ceremony at the cenotaph in Victory Square. It was an overcast, chill day but the rain held off. I don’t know what I feel about attending this ceremony every year, sometimes I …
