Cape Breton Farm

Yesterday I was out in the Balsam woods gathering boughs for the goats. I paused to enjoy the stillness of the woods. It was so deeply beautiful. The silence is astounding. I am nearly always filled with such a deep peace when I'm there. Realistically, I should be a bit nervous, with Bobcats, Lynx, Bear, Moose and Coyotes around. I always take one of the dogs with me for this reason.

Brigida, the Maremma sheepdog is a magnificent animal. I feel no fear when she is with me. Although not so good when people come around the farm, she is incredible at keeping predatory animals away. She is a wonderful companion on these walks. Picking up the scent of something, she will at times wander away from me, but usually, she is never very far, nosing along, bounding over to me with a whistle. Living where and how we do, I am so grateful for her.

The snow is falling heavily today. There has been no sun for a couple of days, so my raised bed in the greenhouse is still frozen hard. I've spread plastic on it to try and warm the soil, but we need the sun for that. Today is a good day for a hot soup simmered on the woodstove. To curl up inside and read, and choose more seeds while enjoying a hot cup of tea.

Living in Cape Breton has at times been an enormous struggle. It can be a hard place. However, I've heard that once it gets in to you it gives back so much. I think I'm finally reaching that point where it is really getting into me. Coming home with the boughs yesterday, I paused on the hill to savour the sky. The most magnificent blue hung just above the horizon, deep, rich almost unearthly. It's light illuminated the edges of the trees and the mountains accentuating the line and form. It looked like a painting, almost surreal. I gazed, mesmorized, and then a few minutes later it was gone. Flat grey blue had returned. Briefly though, I witnessed some of the magic that finds you here and reaches into your heart.