Vol 39 • No 04
$4.99
September 2026
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A Teacher’s Tale Wild & Wonderful Plants 20 Years of The Elaine Dobbin Centre
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life is better Published monthly in St. John’s by Downhome Publishing Inc. 43 James Lane, St. John’s, NL, A1E 3H3 Tel: 709-726-5113 • Fax: 709-726-2135 • Toll Free: 1-888-588-6353 E-mail: mail@downhomelife.com Website: www.downhomelife.com Editorial Editor-in-Chief Dillon Collins Assistant Editor Nicola Ryan Editor Lila Young
Warehouse Operations Warehouse Operator Josephine Collins Shipping/Receiving Clerk Jonathon Organ Shipping/Receiving Clerk Kim Tucker
Art and Production Art Director Vince Marsh Illustrator Mel D’Souza Illustrator Snowden Walters
Retail Operations Retail Operations Director Jackie Rice Retail Manager, Water Steet Crystal Rose Retail Manager, Avalon Mall Emma Luscombe Retail Manager, Twillingate Donna Keefe Retail Sales Associates Destinee Rogers,
Advertising Sales Marketing & Advertising Director Tiffany Brett Finance and Administration Accountant Marlena Grant Accountant Sandra Gosse Operations Manager, Twillingate Nicole Mehaney
Emily Snelgrove, Alexandria Skinner, Colleen Giovannini, Morgan Powless, Adriana Hann, Keith Lamkin, Martina Rogers, Hayley Warren, Bridgette Bartlett, Maggie Fenton, Nikeah Bennett, Jessica Newman, Ryder Melville, Jeanette Burt
Subscriptions Customer Service Associate Jennifer Kane Customer Service Associate Jacinta Squires Founding Editor Ron Young Chief Executive Officer/Publisher Grant Young General Manager/Assistant Publisher Tina Bromley
To subscribe, renew or change address use the contact information above. Subscriptions 1-Year term total inc. taxes, postage and handling: for residents in NL, NB, PE $49.44; NS $49.01; ON $48.58; QC, SK, MB, AB, BC, NU, NT, YT $45.14. US $54.99; International $59.99
Canada Post Canadian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement #40062919 The advertiser agrees that the publisher shall not be liable for damages arising out of errors in advertisements beyond the amount paid for the space actually occupied by the portion of the advertisement in which the error occurred, whether such error is due to the negligence of the servants or otherwise, and there shall be no liability beyond the amount of such advertisement. The Letters to the Editor section is open to all letter writers providing the letters are in good taste, not libelous, and can be verified as true, correct and written by the person signing the letter. Pen names and anonymous letters will not be published. The publisher reserves the right to edit, revise, classify, or reject any advertisement or letter. © Downhome Publishing Inc. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without permission of the publisher. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada.
Printed in Canada
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44 riding the trail
Contents
SEPTEMBER 2026
36 Pet Of The Year Meet our winner and honourable mentions!
82
nature’s bounty
44 A Rider’s Guide to the Baccalieu Trail A motorcycle trek across the Northern Avalon Mike Buhler
64 Heritage At Risk The Gros Morne Fall Festival aims to preserve some of our most cherished traditions Pamela Gill
82 Downhome Recipes The Taste of the Trail
Beulah Drake photo
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Contents homefront 8 Between the Lines A note from the Editor
SEPTEMBER 2026
10 beach day
10 Letters From Our Readers Salmon Cove Sands, University Dances, A Trip Down Memory Lane
16 Then & There Downhome catches readers up on major recent news, notes, events, anniversaries and acknowledgements across NL and beyond.
18 Downhome Tours Central America
20 Life’s Funny Learning and Laughter Andreas Thiel
21 Say What? A contest that puts words in someone else’s mouth
22 Lil Charmers Bread Buddies 24 Pets of the Month Cat’s Meow 26 Book Nook Downhome dives into the latest and greatest in NL literature
24 cool cat
28 Fresh Tracks Wendy Rose reviews The Pendulum Effect by Big Space
32 Adventures Outdoors Enjoying Every Minute Gord Follett
28 new music
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Contents
SEPTEMBER 2026
78
preserve time!
features 52 A War Beyond, A War Too Close A Belarusian boy, a penholder and the Ukrainian War Nellie P. Strowbridge
58 Wild and Wonderful A guide to common plants of NL Part Two Todd Hollett
70 The House That Elaine Built Twenty years of belonging at the Elaine Dobbin Centre Pam Pardy
home and cabin
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76 Stuff We Love Berry Inspired
78 Plates and Passages The Last Harvest Bobbi Pike
wild life
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Contents
SEPTEMBER 2026
98 story art
reminiscing 92 Flashbacks Classic photos of people and places.
93 This Month in History William Jackman
94 Visions and Vignettes Adventures of two young scallywags in an imaginary outport in days gone by. Harold N. Walters
98 Drawn To It St. John’s artist Elizabeth Veitch Dillon preserves history through painting Dennis Flynn
104 Going Teaching Harold Clarke 6
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142 a fall tradition
110 Puzzles 122 Colouring Page 124 Classifieds 126 Mail Order
the back porch 130 The Labrador Current Off About the cover It was a grand day berry picking for Harbour Breton’s Beulah Drake. This lovely shot of a bucket full of blueberries graces our cover, featuring the top ten uses for berries in Newfoundland and Labrador. Elsewhere, Downhome looks at passed-down traditions and practices many are fighting to preserve.
Cover Index Pet of the Year • 36 A Rider’s Guide to the Baccalieu Trail • 44 Hertitage At Risk • 64 The Taste of the Trail • 82 A Teacher’s Tale • 104 Wild & Wonderful Plants • 58 20 Years of the Elaine Dobbin Centre • 70 www.downhomelife.com
To Charlottetown Nathan Freake
132 What Odds Paul Warford’s bunny bonanza
134 Ties to Home Back To Her Roots Dianna Brown
138 Homeward Bound Rediscovering the meaning of place Zachary Mosher
142 Berries & Boil-Ups Mac Moss
144 Photo Finish September 2026
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between the lines
What does it mean to preserve a tradition? Is it simply remembering the past, or choosing to carry it forward? Here in Newfoundland and Labrador, many of our most cherished customs aren’t confined to museums or history books. They live on in the recipes, practices and cultural traditions that continue to shape those who have long held them close, and those discovering them for the first time. They endure because people continue to practise them, share them and pass them on. Throughout this issue, you’ll meet individuals and communities doing just that. You’ll discover artist Elizabeth Veitch Dillon, who honours her family history through painting. We reflect on boil-ups and berry picking, exploring how these traditions enrich far more than our bellies. We visit the Elaine Dobbin Centre, where one woman’s vision of compassion has transformed countless lives over the past 20 years. And we head west to the Gros Morne Fall Festival, where celebrating and safeguarding our shared heritage has never been more important. You’ll also find stories that encourage us to get outside, embrace the season, and remember the value of lending a hand when kindness can feel in short supply. September is a season of change and renewal. It’s also a reminder that some of the things worth carrying forward are the traditions, stories and connections that continue to define us. As always, thanks for reading.
Dillon Collins Editor-in-chief
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Submission Guidelines and Prize Rules
You could WIN $100! Every reader whose PHOTO, STORY, JOKE or POEM appears next to this yellow “from our readers” stamp in a current issue receives $10 and a chance at being drawn for the monthly prize: $100 for one photo submission and $100 for one written submission. Prizes are awarded in Downhome Dollars certificates, which can be spent like cash in our retail stores and online at shopDownhome.com.*
Submit Today! Send your photo, story, joke or poem to
Downhome, 43 James Lane, St. John’s, NL, A1E 3H3 or submit online at: www.downhomelife.com *Only 1 prize per submitter per month. To receive their prize, submitters must provide with their submission COMPLETE contact information: full name, mailing address, phone number and email address (if you have one). Mailed submissions will only be returned to those who include a self-addressed, stamped envelope. Downhome Inc. reserves the right to publish submissions in future print and/or electronic media campaigns. Downhome Inc. is not responsible for unsolicited material.
Hidden somewhere in this issue is Corky Sly Conner.
Can you find him? Look carefully at all the photographs and in the text of the stories. If you spot Corky, send us your name, address and phone number, along with a note telling us where he’s located. Your name will be entered in a draw and the winner will receive a coupon worth 25 Downhome Dollars redeemable at our store, or through our website.
Send your replies to: Corky Contest 43 James Lane St. John’s, NL, A1E 3H3
mail@downhomelife.com www.downhomelife.com Deadline for replies is the 25th of each month.
Congratulations to Amanda Banfield of Haileybury, ON who found Corky on page 73 of the July issue!
*No Phone Calls Please. One entry per person
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Re: Salmon Cove Sands
It is with interest that one of the photos used by your magazine to promote submissions from your readers (as on page 23 of the June 2026 issue) features a photo of young adults enjoying a gathering on Salmon Cove Sands, Conception Bay. The picture was submitted some years ago by my cousin, Irving Wareham, who was asking readers to help him identify the unknown people in the picture. (Irving is the one holding the guitar with a girl’s arms wrapped around him. He confessed that the guitar belonged to another and that he was merely holding it to look good.) I do not know if he had any replies to his quest. Maybe some Downhome readers remember being in the photo and can identify others? Irving was a dedicated teacher, avid trout fisherman and woodsman and, among other things, an active member of the Carbonear Branch of the Royal Canadian Legion, having served as a Canadian Ranger. He passed away a few years ago at the age of 91. William (Bill) Butt
How about it, readers? Do you have any information for Bill? Let us know at editorial@downhomelife.com 10
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Those University Dances Were the Best I realize that not all readers want to know about the personal details of my life, but I am including a mention here of the rather belated start of my dancing enjoyments. The fact is that, despite my passionate interest in pop music – particularly rock and roll – I did not learn how to dance until I was 20 years of age. I remember with some pain and embarrassment how torturous it was to have to sit out the entirety of high school dances without being able to engross myself in the unshackled energy and drive of the bands that used to play there. I did attend White House dances fairly regularly once I made the leap forward of acquiring dancing skills, and I remember that, when I returned to university in the fall of 1965, I was a regular at most of the dances featured there twice a week. The most
vivid images I have of those occasions were of the intensity and pervasiveness of the sounds of the Ravens and the Deltones, two of the best bands in St. John’s at the time. I would like to recall one especially enjoyable encounter I had during these university dances by quoting from an essay of mine entitled “A Few of My Favourite Things”, which has been published in both the Western Star and a local college magazine. My relevant recollections therein were recounted thusly: “I remember the sweet positivity I felt when an outstandingly and charmingly statuesque brunette immediately accepted my invitation to dance; how we swayed in fervent unison to the unrestrained rhythms of “What’d I Say”, by the Ducats, one of Newfoundland’s best-known bands at the time; and to recapture a sense of the precious joy and fulfillment that could have been mine if I had had the
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good sense to follow up on our initial encounter.” Lloyd Bonnell Corner Brook, NL
Thanks for your insights, as always, Lloyd. Always appreciate your reflections from a bygone era in Newfoundland and Labrador. We’re always open to submissions or reminiscings at editorial@downhomelife.com
A Trip Down Memory Lane I was just seventeen when I came to Toronto from a small community, Hickman’s Harbour on Random Island. The community is so much different now. No cars, no cell phones, no hydro, no computers, no TV, batteryoperated radios. Cows, sheep and horses roamed the gravel roads. There were no locks on the doors. Come on in for a mug up and a tea biscuit or a piece of lassie loaf. Everything was done manually: cutting and spreading hay, bringing water from the well, and cutting wood. We all had our chores, like filling the water barrel and wood box once a day. Everybody had a vegetable garden. We’d scrub clothes on a scrubbing board and pin them on the clothesline. Only a very few had a battery-operated phone. One copper wire was going to Clarenville. My father’s number was one long, one short, one long. Anyone who had a phone could listen in on your conversation. My father had a wind changer on top of the barn, hooked up to a six-volt battery. There was a two-room school with a potbelly woodstove in each room. Each student was to take turns bringing wood. A large blackboard was on the wall. We had our own slate and chalk. The teacher would put the 12
September 2026
questions on the board, and we would put our answers on our slate, which the teacher would correct. Then our slate would be cleaned for the next subjects. Twice in a term, the school inspector would come from St. John’s. He would bring a can of Coco malt and Gerald S. Doyle cod liver oil. We would all have a cup of Coco malt, and we could take the oil home. We had two churches, the Salvation Army and the United Church. The United church had a bell up in the steeple with a rope coming down to the porch. You’d pull on the rope, and the bell would swing from side to side. It would ring out to come to church for 15 minutes, same for the evening service. After my father came home from the First World War, he put his hands to many things to make a living: building schooners, making fish barrels. He had his own saw mill and a passenger boat and would take passengers to Clarenville to go on the train. He also delivered and picked up the mail there. Every Wednesday was mail day, and I went with him. I would take the morning off from school, and we would pick up and deliver to three communities on the route. Christmas was an exciting time. After we went to bed, our parents would decorate the tree. Our stockings were not hung by the chimney with care, but Dad’s knitted socks were filled with one apple, one orange, a box of Cracker Jacks, one toy from Eaton’s and 5 cents at the bottom. I remember getting a pair of skates you’d lace on your boots. We would mummer up and knock on doors (Any mummers in tonight?) They’d have to guess who we were. Then we’d get home-made Christmas cake and a 1-888-588-6353
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James Thistle on the water in Hickman’s Harbour
glass of Purity syrup. Some good. It would last until Old Christmas Day on January 6th. That night, my father would tell us to go out to the barn and listen to the animals pray (no way). Mother’s Day was very emotional. There would be a program. If your mother had passed away, you’d put a white rose on the Bible. If she were
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living, you’d pin a red rose on her bosom. Bonfire night, or Guy Fawkes night, was exciting. Cutting trees all day for a big fire at night in the centre of the potato garden. If a mother could not breastfeed her child, Carnation milk was the menu. I believe it was three parts Carnation milk to five parts warm water with a little sugar. Not in a fancy bottle. The label on the can was different than today, showing a smiling cow. At the bottom of the label, it read “from contented cows.” This is just a glimpse of growing up in a small community. I am now 90 and still remember the good old days. James Thistle Toronto, ON
Thanks for this reflective trip down memory lane, James!
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homefront lil charmers
On a Roll
Michael puts in his first bread. Edith Snow Wings Point, NL
Bread Buddies
Flour Child
Lily and Nan are baking up smiles. Patricia Seward Clarenville, NL 22
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Dough Darling Georgia’s got a recipe for fun! Tonya Flynn Musgrave Harbour, NL
Send us your lil charmers photos
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Babycakes This little cutie’s discovering a tasty tradition. Candace Gaulton Marystown, NL
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HOME and Cabin
downhome recipes
Berry picking is more than filling a bucket in Newfoundland and Labrador. It’s an excuse to get out among nature, share stories, and preserve a sweet tradition. Long after the season of the blues, reds and oranges ends, those little balls of happiness keep showing up in kitchens, workshops, and yes, even your bathroom cabinet. Here are a dozen ways Newfoundland and Labrador’s wild berries continue to earn their keep.
1. Put Some Jam On It!
2. Decorate Your Desserts
If there’s one thing every pantry from St. John’s to Port aux Basques seems to have, it’s homemade jam. Blueberries, partridgeberries, and bakeapples are all staples, perfect to slather on toast, sandwiches, or serve alongside warm, fresh bread and a mug of tea.
Partridgeberries, bakeapples, and mixed berries often find their way into pies, tarts, crisps, cheesecakes, tea buns, coffee cakes, and turnovers. Fresh or frozen from the year before, berry bliss comes to those with every forkful.
Beulah Drake original photo
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3. The Old Ways Are Still The Best A blueberry grunt, passed down from nannies all the way back in the 1700s, might not look gorgeous on your Instagram, but one nibble explains why it’s survived generations. Berries bubble away beneath soft dumplings, making a simple and decadent dessert that’s the definition of comfort food.
4. Level-Up Your Game The sharp bite of partridgeberry, cranberry or the tart richness of blueberry balances perfectly with rich meats and game. Berry sauces, reductions and compotes are a welcome addition to any table or menu.
5. A Bountiful Breakfast Move over, maple! Berry syrup over toutons, pancakes, or waffles is hard to beat.
6. Sweet Skincare Wild berries aren’t just for the kitchen. Local artisans (shout out to Tval and Dark Tickle) utilize bakeapples, partridgeberries, crowberries, and blueberries in handcrafted soaps, lotions, bath products, and other skincare inspired by the province’s natural ingredients.
7. Berry Good Sips For generations, home kitchens have turned local berries into wines, cordials, and liqueurs. Every family seems to know someone with a recipe that’s the best of the bunch.
8. Growing and Learning Long before modern supplements, Indigenous communities and early settlers used local berries and berry leaves in teas and home remedies. Berries are used to this day for their antioxidant properties and potential uses in natural health and skincare products.
9. The Ripe Stuff Did you know that the berry patches we mine each summer are just as important to the province’s wildlife? Bears, foxes, birds, and countless other animals rely on wild berries.
10. Colour Us Impressed Before store-bought dyes were commonplace, dark berries, like blueberries and crowberries, were used to add natural shades of purple, blue, and red to wool, crafts, and homemade projects.
Berry Bonus! The best way to enjoy a berry is straight off the bush. Every year, families head for the barrens with buckets in hand, eating almost as many as they collect. The rest usually ends up in freezer bags, ready for desserts, sauces, jams, and everything in between for when winter settles in. 1-888-588-6353
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Maple Blueberry Chicken Salad 3 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded or diced 1/2 cup mayonnaise 1/4 cup Greek yogurt 1/2 cup fresh blueberries 1 celery stalk, finely diced
2 tbsp chopped chives 1 tsp Dijon mustard 1 tsp maple syrup 1 tsp lemon juice Salt and pepper to taste 1/4 cup toasted pecans, chopped
In a large bowl, combine the chicken, blueberries, celery, and chives. In a separate bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, Greek yogurt, Dijon mustard, maple syrup, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Pour the dressing over the chicken mixture and stir until evenly coated. Fold in the pecans just before serving. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour before serving. Yields six servings.
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Cranberry Glazed Pork Loin 2 pork tenderloins (about 1 to 1 1/4 lbs each) 1/2 cup cranberry jam or cranberry sauce 2 tbsp Dijon mustard 2 tbsp apple cider vinegar 1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp maple syrup 2 cloves garlic, minced 1 tsp fresh rosemary finely chopped (or 1/2 tsp dried) 1 tbsp olive oil Salt and pepper to taste 2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley (optional)
Preheat oven to 400°F. Pat the pork tenderloins dry and season generously with salt and pepper. In a small bowl, whisk together the cranberry jam, Dijon mustard, apple cider vinegar, soy sauce, maple syrup, garlic, and rosemary until smooth. Heat olive oil in an oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the pork on all sides until lightly browned, about 2-3 minutes per side. Remove from heat and brush generously with the cranberry glaze, reserving a little for later. Transfer the skillet to the oven and roast for 1822 minutes, brushing once more halfway through cooking, until the pork reaches an internal temperature of 145°F. Let rest for 5-10 minutes before slicing. Drizzle with remaining glaze and sprinkle with parsley before serving. Yields six servings.
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Salmon with Crowberry Sauce 6 salmon fillets (about 5 oz each) 1/2 cup crowberry preserves or jam 2 tbsp balsamic vinegar 1 tbsp Dijon mustard 1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tsp fresh grated ginger 1 tbsp olive oil Salt and pepper to taste 2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley
Preheat oven to 400°F. In a small bowl, stir together the crowberry preserves (substitute blackberries if desired), balsamic vinegar, Dijon mustard, soy sauce, and ginger until smooth. Place the salmon on a lightly greased baking sheet and season with salt and pepper. Brush generously with the crowberry glaze and bake for 1215 minutes, brushing once more halfway through cooking, until the salmon flakes easily with a fork. Sprinkle with fresh parsley before serving. Yields six servings.
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Black Currant and Pear Tart 1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed 2 ripe pears, thinly sliced 1/2 cup black currant jam 1 tbsp lemon juice 1 tbsp brown sugar 1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash) 1 tbsp coarse sugar (optional) Fresh thyme leaves or orange slice (optional)
Preheat oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Unfold the puff pastry and place it on the prepared baking sheet. Score a 1-inch border around the edge without cutting all the way through. In a small bowl, stir together the black currant jam, lemon juice, vanilla, and cinnamon. Spread the mixture evenly inside the scored border. Arrange the pear slices over the jam, slightly overlapping, and sprinkle with the brown sugar. Brush the pastry border with the beaten egg and sprinkle with coarse sugar, if using. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until the pastry is puffed and golden brown and the pears are tender. Garnish with fresh thyme leaves or a light dusting of powdered sugar before serving. Yields eight servings.
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Cloudberry Smoothie 1 cup frozen cloudberries (bakeapples), slightly thawed 1 banana, sliced 1 cup plain Greek yogurt 1/2 cup orange juice
1/2 cup milk (or oat milk) 1 tbsp honey 1/2 tsp vanilla extract 1/2 cup ice cubes 1 tbsp chia seeds (optional)
Add the cloudberries, banana, Greek yogurt, orange juice, milk, honey, vanilla, and ice cubes to a blender. Blend on high until smooth and creamy. If the smoothie is too thick, add a splash more milk; if too thin, add a few extra ice cubes or frozen fruit. Pour into glasses and sprinkle with chia seeds if using. Serve immediately. Yields two large smoothies.
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Blueberry Raspberry Muffins 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp salt 3/4 cup sugar 1/3 cup melted butter 1 large egg 1 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla extract 1 tbsp lemon zest 1 cup fresh blueberries 1 cup fresh raspberries Streusel Topping (optional) 1/3 cup brown sugar 1/4 cup all-purpose flour 2 tbsp cold butter, cubed
Preheat oven to 375°F. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners or lightly grease each cup. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar. In a separate bowl, combine the melted butter, egg, milk, vanilla, and lemon zest, then pour into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined. Gently fold in the blueberries and raspberries, being careful not to over mix. Divide the batter evenly among the muffin cups. If using streusel, mix the brown sugar, flour, and cold butter until crumbly, then sprinkle over each muffin. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the tops are golden and a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Cool slightly before serving. Yields 12 muffins.
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life is better Autumn morning in Elliston, NL Sheldon Hicks Bonavista, NL
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the back porch
Homeward Bound
By Zachary Mosher
Around
the third week of September 2023, I sat along the seashore listening to the Atlantic, its splash the backdrop to any Newfoundlander’s childhood, now resounding like so much cruel mystery. Down on my luck and strapped for cash, fresh home from mainland Europe, I had spent nearly half a decade on the continent and felt myself to be a new man. I had gathered a wealth of experience, spoke a foreign language, lived in cities as alive by night as they were by day, swarming with millions of people. Yet it did little to prepare me for returning to the island. The rhythm of life, the dialect, the boom and bust seasonal economy, all had been lost on me. My decision was pretty stupid, I thought, and I believed myself to be a fool. Although my journey was over, it seemed the greatest complications and troubles lay ahead. I had taken odd jobs at bars, interviews at banks, and sat in employment offices, anything to scrape by.
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Each time I received the same question in the same curious tone, “So, where are you from, anyway?” And each time I would reply, “Shoal Harbour, a place so small it doesn’t really have a name. It’s more of a geographical phenomenon.” This rehearsed answer was met with the same queer look of the eye, one of either disbelief or distrust, which, truth be told, I never really got over. A stranger in me own land I was! Then came the dead of winter, and I was frightfully unemployed. No stamps to be earned abroad, so no recourse to employment insurance. For better or worse, Newfoundland is a big land, but a small place where things have a way of getting around. An old friend from university, whom I had fallen out of touch with caught wind of my whereabouts, rang me up and coerced me downtown St. John’s for a beer. When I confessed, I would be arriving empty-handed, they said, “No odds about it! The least I can do is buy ya’ a pint.” That night it was bitter. The wind racking us down Duckworth Street was enough to cut ya’. Except for the smell on the coats of stragglers pouring inside the dingy pub, we had no recollection of the cold outside, warming ourselves with the pints we drank and peals of laughter we bellowed.
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A host of characters passed through the door. Everyone knew someone, and everyone got to know someone new. It began to sink in again, the turns of phrase, the quick wit of the tongue, how Newfoundlanders carry on with an acquaintance as they would their neighbour, their convivial spirit, what sets them apart as a distinct people. Up until then, my frustrations condemned all that as parochial, a quaint disguise for the nepotism I blamed my misfortunes on. I may not have met contacts to solve my financial woes, but I received something a fair deal greater I didn’t realize I was missing: a sense of identity. It was a generous May day, the kind that tricks you into believing summer is right around the bend. Whiling away the evening, I was along the shore of Conception Bay, atop one of those boulders – extraordinary glacial deposits, it turns out – the sun splitting the beach rocks, when a chipper voice pipped up through the temperate breeze. “You’ve got it scald, sure!” Lifting my nose from the pages I was sifting, holding up the cover to shield my eyes from the slanting rays, I turned to face a fellow on the old railway track, he and his companion swift on the jaunt, swinging their arms, his face delighted at how fine a day it was.
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There was a kindness to the weather. It encouraged people to share their appreciation of the island’s beauty, to relate to their fellow countrymen, to air out that sentimental sense of home and belonging. I had to snicker. You couldn’t take it from him. He was right. “G’wan wit’cha! Don’t we all?” I carried on. The waves were lightly splashing, and the tide was yet to come in. A rare spring stillness wafted through the atmosphere. For a moment, this fellow and his partner were the only ones ruffling the quiet, breathing contentedly, their feet pounding against the gravel, keen to make haste even in their leisure. I resumed my position, returned to my lecture with a sudden peace of mind, gladness of heart, thankful for being in Newfoundland, the affable nature of New-
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foundlanders, and for being a Newfoundlander myself. Months earlier, I had stood on that same shoreline like an exile looking for my place in the world. For all the bitter fruit I had bit into during that come-home year, none of it could spoil that moment so typical, so sweet. A seagull let loose a screech. More followed suit. Winged silhouettes were darting overhead. The warmth was also taking flight. I packed my bag, stood up on that giant rock, stretched my arms victorious against the sky, its changing colours as turbulent now as the tide, took a last sniff of the briny air, then made my way, sure and spry, homeward bound. Summer had arrived, dandelions speckling the green in every yard, lupins violet in every ditch. By that time, I was working in a restaurant in downtown St. John’s, not the prospect I aspired to, but I was
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making ends meet. At times it didn’t seem to matter what I was doing or how much I earned. For those willing to seek it out, there was the suggestion of a life nearer to the things worth living for. I remember such an instance on the East Coast Trail. A friend and I hiked the strenuous Pico’s Ridge Path beginning near the ferry crossing in Portugal Cove. The day was bright and hot, the way formidable. After scaling the steep ascent, we arrived at a tableland, a panorama of Bell Island and Conception Bay at our sides, eventually settling at some falls feeding into the Atlantic. As we sat there, the water cooling our bodies, washing our sweat into the salt of the sea, a golden path ripening over the blue expanse, my friend and I made eye contact. We communicated an unspeakable truth only those who have lived and grown, suffered and persevered through the island’s seasons, its tumults and challenges,
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have the privilege to know. Minutes later, the faint hum of engines announced the approach of two seadoos. The gentlemen paused at the foot of the falls, believing themselves to be in the privacy of the wilderness. Lo and behold, there we were waving down at them from above. Their shock and awe caused them to stand on their machines, nearly lose their balance, the same, I imagine, as people spotting statues of idols in the cliffs, like those in Flatrock, way back when. We could hear them laughing for joy before they fired up their engines and rode off into the rippling sun. At that moment, I had no expectations from life. Our splendid surroundings emboldened me to speak my mind. “Careful,” my companion warned, wagging their cautious tongue. “The summer tricks you.” “I’ve been fooled before,” I said, gallant and grand, “and I’m willing to be fooled again.”
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