by PDR-Kellie | Sep 6, 2018 | Courses, Creativity, Events, Manitoba, outdoors, Teaching, Workshops, Writing Life
A few weeks ago, J. and I went to the boreal. We traveled east, out of the Prairies, until we hit shield country, then drove north to Black Lake in Nopiming Provincial Park. The landscape was perfect: just like home with rocky granite outcrops, water tinted a tannic...
by PDR-Kellie | Jul 20, 2017 | Family, Manitoba, Nature, News, outdoors, Process, Seasons, Winnipeg, Writing Life
Last week, J. and I went south to shop for a new house. After a long day of driving, we backed our tent trailer into what could have been the worst car camping site we’ve ever occupied: zero shade, edging the trail to the beach, and monitored by two bored...
by PDR-Kellie | May 4, 2017 | Creativity, Family, Manitoba, Mowat, Nature, News, outdoors, Poetry, Process, Seasons, The Pas, Writing Life
So, spring. Change in the air. Our backyard a sudden chaos of birdsong: the chattering boat-tailed grackles, the red-winged blackbirds shrieking as they puff out their red patches, the sweet chirping of the robins. Yesterday, I took Mowat for a run on a dyke further...
by PDR-Kellie | Dec 22, 2016 | Family, Nature, outdoors, Poetry, Seasons, Winter, Writing Life
Winter Solstice, 3:34 p.m. Outside, I notice the light spread on white snow, like buttercup petals on the skin of your chin, those childhood games that pass so quickly by. Night is coming and all day I’ve been thinking of the boats you used to carve, of...
by PDR-Kellie | Sep 8, 2016 | Manitoba, Nature, News, outdoors, Publications, The Pas, Travel
This August, J. and I returned home from our canoe trip to hear the bad news about The Pas. At the library, where I work part-time, the staff – two of whom have husbands who work at the mill – were reeling. In such a small town, when the main employer...
by PDR-Kellie | Aug 25, 2016 | Contemplations, Creativity, Creativity Coaching, Manitoba, Nature, outdoors, Process, Summer, Writing Life
Last week, in the woods, I became reacquainted with my brain. I remembered who I am. The paddling was tough. Every time we hit a lake, the wind bore down like a creature, pushing two-foot waves at us, and we had long distances to cover. There were whole days of...