journey and destination are one and the same
“She arrived at the Pleasant Valley station on a cold spring night and Henry Quigley picked her up. Utter darkness, save a flicker of light in one window, when the horse came to a stop before the farmhouse. Smell of cows and forest, and the thin throb of peepers….” Audiobook – Audible.ca Audiobook – Kobo Audiobook Read More ...
“She felt herself to be poised between two places of equal, but different, terrors. Here, in England, persecution. There, in New England—wolves, forests, fierce winters.” * Winner – New Brunswick Book Award 2016 * *Longlisted – 2017 International DUBLIN Literary Award* Amazon.ca Indigo Kindle Kobo Google iBooks Amazon.com Barnes & Noble Books A Million Hudson Booksellers Powell’s A Measure of Read More ...
“One day she would look back at it and see only a picture, small and insignificant as a rain-wrinkled postage stamp, of herself and Carrie, a messy cabin, a storm somewhere in the Drake Passage…” Audiobook – Audible.ca Audiobook – Kobo Audiobook – iTunes Amazon Indigo Kindle Kobo Google iBooks Growing up on the Bay of Fundy, Azuba Galloway dreams of Read More ...
“In the corner is a stack of nine antique hatboxes…She slides her fingers over a lid, remembering the excitement she and her cousins had felt about these boxes and the disappointment of finding only papers whose half-read sentences were like windborne music or distant surf, faint hints of a larger sound.” Audiobook – Audible.ca Audiobook – Read More ...
” My eyes follow the coyote’s trail. He would rather, I think, have trotted into the heart of winter in total obscurity, like a ship vanishing into fog. He had no need or desire to leave any trace of his passing.” Amazon Indigo Kindle Kobo Google iBooks In the middle years of my life, I find myself standing on a Read More ...
” I stand in the dark hall and then grief begins. I can’t go into the room. I can’t open the door. I think that if I keep the door shut, the pain will subside and then the baby, still and always a dream, will sail loose like the fairy on the swallow and take Read More ...
“The house, like a shell, amplified the sounds of wind and crickets and birds. I listened to the August afternoon, hearing a language I could not speak, a language spoken and sung by creatures who did not care whether they were heard, or understood.” Amazon Indigo Kindle Kobo Google iBooks After twenty-five years on our New Brunswick farm, I began Read More ...
Beth Powning lives in New Brunswick, Canada.
She is the author of three novels and three books of literary non-fiction, as well as articles, essays and blog posts. A full-time writer, she teaches workshops, sings in a chorus, serves on boards and committees, makes baskets, gardens, photographs, and keeps chickens.