“What does the day look like Ellen?” James asked of her first to a window this morning.

“It looks” we replied “as if there might be pussy willows out, down there” we noded “along the old mill-road.”

“Not in February!” he smiled. A February morning. But here was March casting tantalizing Spring shadows before… wide gold of sunrise, mild, calm, no wind of day yet born. It was a morning to put feet into the brisket pair of shoes and be off to the unexplored paths of the new week.

Unexplored but promising. What nice surprises, what adventures would be there for us to find and gather-lovely blossoms, rosemary and heart’s ease and a myriad of blooms as we made our way up its trails.

“Strange how the storms have by-passed the Island this Winter” James offered. “For instance when they get quiet a snowfall over on the mainland or “up along’ we only get the end of it.”

“Perhaps we are favoured people!” we chuckled.”

“Not in that sense, Ellen” he said “Though when we come to consider everything, we are a favored people. No, earthquakes, no floods, no extreme cold or heat. And its a rare year-oh there were odd lean ones in my memory- when we don’t have enough pasture for the stock through the summer, or enough crop to gather to see them through the winter might be ‘touch and go’ with the feed sometimes, but there’s mostly plenty if a farmer’s careful.”

Favored? Aye… Yesterday —The Lord’s Day-how lovely it was with its sunshine and gentle wind and the light haze veiling far hills! Kin came to Alderlea in the afternoon – a first granddaughter in many years of this house. And her husband. His name counted among the Island’s best farmers, he has land in plenty and herds, with which to practice his inherent skills of husbandry. And sons in a pair they have a daughter-in-law and little granddaughters two… aotogether [sic] a fine family to share in the interests of the farm.

Others too were our visitors, parents and children in an enviable half-dozen of grls [sic] and boys. How full and happy and never lonely that Island home must be! And each year in passing more interesting, horizons ever-widening. 

“A great little family” James said. And we agreed remembering how extremely good it was to be one of eight children never to get short of playmates… or affection.

“The Northern Lights, Ellen. I never saw them so bright and pretty” James says homing now from a “kaley” at the house across the lane. “Perhaps” he suggests “you’d slip into your coat and come yourself and see?”

– Ellen’s Diary, February 17th, 1958

Source: islandnewspapers.ca