🏆 2020 BIBA® Non-Fiction Winner! –
We can only be said to be alive in those moments
when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.
Thornton Wilder, The Woman of Andros
I was blessed. I was born with wolves! If not in our house, then wandering about our orchards, around our barns, and through our few fields. We had a home in the wilderness of Central Ontario: no electricity, no running water, no indoor toilet, but we did have hot and cold running wolves and bears. And I loved that place. On late summer evenings and fortunate winter nights, silver forms would sing from the hills and valleys. On these occasions, somewhere in our rambling old house with two staircases, under warm blankets, a child would lie transfixed in mystery and enchantment. Here was another nation, a different civilization, who needed nothing from us, distrusted us, even hated us. And rightly so.