Calgary. The twenties. Cold, and the sweet melt of chinooks. A musical weather. World rippling and running. World watery with flutes. And woodwinds. The wonder of water in that icy …

Life lived through a topaz. My memory is of a beautiful garden, a swimming pool with Olympic proportions in which the pink house proudly mirrored itself. At night it was …

Montreal. The forties. Calèches. The snow as high as a house. Grey stone. The French. And a room of one’s own. Smoky souchong for tea. Alone but not lonely. My …