Since we had to leave McNutt's Island unexpectedly, I won't be blogging as consistently as I used to do. But there will still be occasional posts about the island. In May 2011 (just as we were leaving) I received a Nova Scotia Museum Research Grant to write a history of Cape Roseway Lighthouse. So I'll post now and then about my research as it proceeds.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

a lovely award for Greg

Greg was awarded the prize for best speciality column by the Atlantic Community Newspaper Association. Many thanks to Greg Bennett, editor of the Shelburne County Coast Guard, for nominating Greg's column.

I have copied the description of the award below, since you would only be able to read the newspaper page with a magnifying glass. It's quite an honour for Greg, and, as I wrote earlier when he was nominated, bitter-sweet.
Here's what the judge wrote:

Greg Brown's thoughtful and inspiring ruminations on nature and home life were a pleasure to read, not only because they are so well written, but because each column pays off in unexpected ways.

Crossroads takes first place as this year's Best Speciality Column because it's so easy for me to imagine regular readers of the Shelburne County Coast Guard anticipating its appearance in their weekly paper. It's obvious Brown strives to make his column accessible to everyone.

His ability to weave Christian parables into the narrative with subtlety and nuance expertly avoids the tendency for columnists working in this vein to come across as heavy handed.

Great work.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

"island tales," next Thursday night

This event was scheduled long ago, before we ever dreamed we'd be leaving the island. But maybe it's not bad timing after all. Sometimes things have an odd way of working out.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

beauty and the beast

On this drizzly morning a few sheep have ambled into the back orchard. Among them is The Major. He is not some stand-offish sort of ram who looks down his nose at the rest of the flock.He is content to graze near the newly emerging daffodils that line the rock wall.
He is, at heart, a simple soul. Modest and unassuming.
Yet there are times when he stands amid the daffodils and thinks deep thoughts.
Along with the rest of the flock, he has endured the long months of winter. Now he sometimes takes his ease, and lies down on beds of flowers.
How we shall miss The Major.