Nature

Category: Nature

(Photos by: Dave Butler)

 

Should fiction be used for good, or for evil?

That was the question posed to me at a recent festival where I was giving the keynote speech. I had shared my thoughts with the evening’s participants about how the relatively new literary genre known as eco-fiction has influenced conservation, and vice-versa. I offered a list of books that I believe have played that role, including Margaret Atwood’s MaddAddam Trilogy, The Road by Cormac McCarthy and even Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax, among many others.

Once Around Algonquin  thumbnail

Once Around Algonquin

Posted on July 17 by Kevin Callan

This past summer my regular canoe mate, Andy Baxter, and I took on Algonquin’s Meanest Link - a full circle the park. It took 16 days, covered 350 kilometers (220 miles), 55 lakes, 6 rivers (3 that had to be paddled upstream), and 93 portages adding up to 68 kilometers (42 miles). It was one crazy trip; one I wouldn’t do again but an experience I’m glad I had. I lost 10 lbs., gained muscles I've never seen on my body before and had mosquito bites all over my genitalia. Doesn’t sound pleasant - and some of it wasn’t. The most prominent silly portion was going up the Big East River.

Peering out my window I gaze longingly over an endless expanse of ice blanketing Lake Superior, a virtual freshwater ocean.  A steady flurry of wet snow pelts against the window melting instantly. It halts briefly before dripping down the pane blurring the grey and unwelcoming vista. Despite my best efforts I must admit that my disposition matches the sullen landscape as an especially harsh and brutal winter in Northern Ontario shows few signs of relenting well into this month of April.

My Humble Escape

Posted on May 12 by James Ross

It is early morning at the cottage.  I sit on the covered wooden porch of our cabin in a hewn log rocking chair, with two huskies asleep at my feet.

Beyond the cottage porch is the lake.  Waves break gently on our rocky shoreline.  A song sparrow sings from an overhead branch, my robin hops about looking for worms, a pair of loons paddle about the bay hooting softly and a gull stands guard on a stump near the shore; but for the quiet murmur of the birds, the soft breathing of my dogs and the sounds of the water, there is silence.  This is why I like to rise early.