Exercise isn’t just for summer.

A couple of weekends ago most of Canada set its clocks back one hour, gaining some daylight in the mornings. Fall doesn’t end here, I’m glad to say, but for me the changing of the clocks always heralds the beauty and drama of winter. I begin to anticipate our 6 month companion’s return: the silent elegance of falling snow, frigid air slicing through ice-laden trees, cormorants flying low in long whipping lines over the crystalline blue of Lake Ontario. I’ve grown to love winter in Canada, but I’ve had to learn how to negotiate my right to enjoy it, to carry on doing the things I love to do, even when the snow is piled high. 

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Food insecurity is the term to describe the state of some of us.

Thanksgiving is a wonderful time for me. In the lush colours, stormy skies and rich harvests, I see both a celebration of life and a reminder of the need to be thankful for our health and for the food we so often take for granted. Thanksgiving brings families together around glistening turkey and fragrant pumpkin, buttered corn and sweet cranberry; it’s a sensual delight, a beautiful breathing space between the subtle melancholy of late summer and the early days of iron winter.

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