Memory is a funny thing. You can be busily doing something and out of the blue springs a memory which causes you to pause and savour the moment, reflect and sometimes smile, then you carry on as before. This happened to me a few weeks ago. I was re-reading a book of one of Newfoundland’s foremost poets, Tom Dawe. In fact it was the title poem of his 1993 collection, In Hardy Country. As I read the first line of the second verse my friend John Burke immediately came to mind. My first reflective thought was, “St. Jacques is John’s Hardy Country.” I hadn’t considered that before despite a long friendship and shared interests among which are the people and events of St. Jacques.
The first two verses of Dawe’s poem In Hardy Country read as below:
For me it is no country overseas,
no Avon, Berkshire, Dorset,
View original post 1,707 more words