“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness…it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” ― Charles Dickens I had to move nine hours north to leave the pigs. Just over a year before the…

When I was six, I ran from a bear. It was a typical early-August day in the North, the kind of day where summer makes its last stand before losing its footing to fall. I was picking blueberries. Sand piled up in my velcro shoes, berry guts were smeared on my face, and a host…

At the age of two or three, I flew on a jet. I don’t remember what it was like as my small body travelled through the air, but I am familiar with flying. Since that flight, though I haven’t been on a plane, I have visited the skies on numerous occasions. I lived in the…

Autumn was my favourite time of year to go on the bus. My route would take me through backroads adorned with red and golden leaves. Deer could often be spotted grazing in the frosty cornfields that were ready for harvest. With the side of my head leaning against the glass, I would slip into a…