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  • Monday on Signal Hill

    We had the best weather ever on Monday and after morning coffee, sensibly ascended the heights of Signal Hill

    by taxi and had a wander round. Here’s how the city looked from up there:

    We walked down to look at the Queen’s Battery Barracks

    and though neither of us could see inside, my camera could.

    Nice view of beyond.. looking out to Cape Spear, the easternmost point of North America.

    After that, we walked down the hill, and parted ways. I pressed on down the hill to amuse myself at the Craft Council Gallery which had an excellent show on upstairs, and offered unbearable temptation in the shop. And after that, it was a perfect day for admiring colour in St John’s.

    Saw some bleeding hearts.

    And planned my visit to The Rooms for the following day. After which I could hardly walk because of all those hills, my knees complaining of their lost youth.

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  • Boreal poets

    Sunday carried on being warm and sunny…


    Even the birds get pretty houses on Signal Hill Road

    and some more mailboxes.

    The party bus was waiting and we all piled aboard

    and had a photo op at Portugal Cove

    before embarking on our Boreal Poetry tour led by Marlene Creates, who read poems in the places where they were composed

    like this rock face

    pointing out the wildflowers that inspired one poem.

    Feels like another spring dawning for me. Fiddleheads and flowers…

    A stream runs through it

    we endured the blackflies – out in their fury – for the sake of poetry

    and forest

    and nautical knots in the rope handrails

    And then we had a reading. In the garage, which was not entirely blackfly-free, but quite comfortable and atmospheric. Penn Kemp

    Sharon Singer,

    Susan McMaster,

    Joe Blades, and then

    Barbara Nickel

    And then it was back on the bus, back to the hotel (where food service stops early) so we wrapped up with some pizza we ordered in at the bar.

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  • Newfoundland Sunday

    The sun finally shone on St John’s today. We were unprepared for the sudden brightness and warmth! Here, at last, “the million dollar harbour view” (taken from the Dildo room – named as they all are after places in Newfoundland in the Battery Hotel… but who would request this room I wonder?)

    We had Cod Au Gratin yesterday for lunch, featuring salt cod and surprisingly good despite appearances:

    Last night’s banquet, Anne Szumigalski Lecture, book launch and prize-giving ceremony took place at the Fluvarium, where you can go eyeball to eyeball with brown trout.

    Many poets milled…

    The banquet’s highlights were the salad which had a good dressing and amazingly sweet cherry tomatoes

    and the cheesecake, but the routine banquet choices of salmon or chicken were about what you might expect; the chicken was uninspired. How does one choose between industrially-reared chicken and farmed salmon anyway? Tough call.

    Then Maurice Mierau

    introduced the night’s star turn, Don McKay delivering a talk on geo-poetics.

    Followed by prizes, book launch readings…

    Afterwards there was music; the harpist, I was told, plays with the symphony. The squeezebox players were excellent.

    It all sounded great but I had to scoot off early in order to catch my ride back. The rest was a blur….

    There are some great mailboxes on Signal Hill Road.

    Breakfast at Coffee Matters on Military Road (I’m afraid the fruit was awful – sour, unwholesome, nearly fermented and I suspect it was a pre-cut restaurant pack rather than a salad made in house. The yogurt wasn’t good either. The coffee was ok…)

    Lunch from Sweet Relic, an absolutely four star foodie joint,

    in the oldest building in the oldest city in North America;

    just fabulous: spinach torte with goat cheese, and a sweet potato frittata with brie. In compostable packaging, no less.

    Another day, another bed….

    And tonight I’m going on a Boreal Poetry Garden walk.

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Book cover of Rhona McAdam's book Larder with still life painting of lemons and lemon branches with blossoms in a ceramic bowl. One of the lemons has a beed on it.

“…A beautiful, filling collection, Larder is a set of poems to read at the change of the seasons, to appreciate alongside a good meal, and to remind yourself of the beauty in everything, even the things you may not appreciate before opening McAdam’s collection….”

Alison Manley

Rhona McAdam is a writer, poet, editor, and Registered Holistic Nutritionist with a Master’s in Food Culture from Italy and a deep-rooted passion for ecology and urban agriculture. Her work spans corporate and technical writing to poetry and creative nonfiction, often exploring the vital links between what we eat and how we live. Based in Victoria, BC, and available via Zoom, Rhona is always open to new writing commissions, readings, or workshops on nutrition and the culinary arts.