Timeless Trinity

If ever there was a delightful place to spend a few hours, or for the really lucky visitor a few days, it's the charming town on Trinity, Trinity Bay.  The redundancy in the name comes from the fact that Newfoundland and Labrador is not divided into counties; if two communities happen to have the same name, they can't be differentiated by county so have to be referred to by the bay on which they lie; hence the distinction between Trinity, Trinity Bay, and Trinity, Bonavista Bay.  While both communities are lovely, it's the Trinity Bay locale that's our focus today.  The town lies roughly an hour north of the Trans-Canada Highway via Route 230.  It lies on the shores of Trinity Bight, a large indentation of Trinity Bay's shoreline that includes a number of small communities.  Its huge
and easily-defended harbour made it an important fishing port in the 1700s, as well as a centre for lumbering, shipbuilding and other trades. In its heyday, Trinity was home to more than 800 people and was a thriving centre for trade and commerce. Today, it has a year-round population of fewer than fifty, but in summer it can still be a bustling place, where restaurants, bed and breakfasts, and museums can be found. Its inviting, tree-lined streets or boat tours beckon, while for the more ambitious the Gun Hill Trail above the town centre overlooks miles of spectacular coastline. Museums include the Cooperage, a restored barrrel-maker's shop (seen above left), the Lester-Garland House, the Trinity Interpretation Centre, Lester-Garland Premises, Hiscock House, the eclectic
Trinity Museum and the Green Family Forge, among others.  There's no shortage of possibilities for sightseeing and learning about the area's fascinating history. Friendly and knowledgeable animators provide information and answer your questions about the various sites, and a wander through the narrow streets of the town is rewarded with photo opportunities at every turn. Dominating the skyline is the imposing St. Paul's Anglican Church. Its neatly fenced graveyard is filled with inscribed stones, each of which has a story to tell, and the interior of the church is softly lit with a number of finely crafted stained-glass windows (below). Across the water lies Fort Point, Trinity's newest restoration, where a trail leads to a number of storyboards surrounded by a stockade fence.  Trinity is also home to the Rising Tide
Theatre, a professional theatre company that stages a season of performances, including comedy, drama, and dinner theatre, that extends well into the fall. The season's anchor event and best-known work is The New Founde Lande Trinity Pageant, an outdoor walkabout performance that takes place in the afternoon. Members of the company portray an array of characters from Trinity's past, and lead their audience to various locations around the town. It's an opportunity to step into history and meet some of the people who played a vital part in the history of Newfoundland and Labrador.  There's only one small drawback to visiting this little gem of a town: once you've experienced the lure of Trinity, you'll want to return for another look!

In an Echo of Winter, a Sign of Spring

Spring comes slowly to Newfoundland and Labrador; that's simply a fact of its geography and climate. When it arrives, though, it brings with it a spectacle that most of North America doesn't have the opportunity to witness: the remarkable phenomenon of sea ice. The ice is almost like a living thing. It drifts in on the combined forces of current, tide and wind, transforming the landscape overnight with its strange and varied shapes. It cloaks the ocean in an undulating mat of

white. Drifting along with the ice are the season's first icebergs, frozen giants calved from the glaciers of Greenland, making their way south after having wintered over on their journey. They sail past regally far at sea, or sometimes venture closer and ground themselves in the shallows like the two seen here at Quidi Vidi in the spring of 2012, when a spectacular sunrise complete with a sun pillar formed a dramatic backdrop. Small coastal communities like Twillingate (top) see their harbours

blocked with ice, often delaying the passage of fishing boats; calm, sunny days, though, bring out an array of reflections that transform the harbour into a place of wonder. The ice might stay overnight, for a week, or even for a month or more; it will depart as quickly as it arrived, drifting back to the sea and leaving nothing but a memory of its passing.

A Different Season

Although summer is the season that draws the most visitors to Newfoundland and Labrador, each region of the province has its own intriguing options for every season of the year; for winter sports like skiing, snowboarding and snowmobiling, central and western Newfoundland as well as Labrador, with its annual Winter Games are perfect destination areas. The maritime climate of theSt. John's in winter shows a different face from the one it displays in summer, but it's equally beautiful and there are plenty of interesting things to see and do. It's true that St. John's gets some

wintry weather, but it seems as though there's a sapphire blue sky for every steely grey one. This is the time of year when cultural events abound. Folk Night, produced by the Newfoundland and Labrador Folk Arts Society, is a weekly event that brings the best of the province's traditional music to the stage of the Ship Pub in central St. John's. The artists shown here are noted musicians Fergus O'Byrne and Fergus Brown-O'Byrne..

The Arts and Culture Centre, located on the campus of Memorial University, features a wide range

of performances from theatre to dance to symphony, with pop, country and folk acts thrown in for good measure. With a total capacity of just over a thousand, it's a formal yet relatively intimate venue and there's literally not a bad seat in the house. Closer to the center of St. John's are the Holy Heart Theatre with a fine and varied roster of acts, and the Resource Centre for the Arts, a well-appointed and truly intimate performance venue located in the historic Longshoremen’s Protective Union (or LSPU) Hall.

Be sure your stay includes a Friday night, the busiest night in the vibrant music scene that keeps St. John`s hopping. There`s music of almost every style at George Street pubs like the Fat Cat, O`Reilly`s, Sundance, Trapper John`s and more, but one of the outstanding venues is Erin`s Pub, located on Water Street just a couple of blocks from the busy George Street strip, where a traditional instrumental session rocks the house in the early evening -- it makes a great starting point for a downtown pub crawl, but be warned: you just might find yourself wanting to extend your stay in St. John`s!

Icebergs and Sun Pillars

On Monday evening a friend called to say that there were a couple of icebergs grounded just outside the "gut" at Quidi Vidi, a small village that's part of St. John's. Would I like to go take a look? I didn't have to be asked twice -- I love the icebergs that work their way south along the Labrador current in spring and early summer, and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see and photograph one, especially in a setting as picturesque as Quidi Vidi. We drove to a point above the village, then walked to the Quidi Vidi Battery, not yet open for the season. The hill gave a commanding view of the bergs in the narrow opening to the small harbour; the two bergs were of completely different

shapes, one flat or tabular and the other pinnacled and looking a bit like a huge white walrus. There were thirty or so people gathered on the point, taking photos or just enjoying the view, but the light was fading fast. We decided to return the following morning to see the bergs in the early light. Serendipity provided the perfect weather conditions for a sun pillar as the day dawned, making for a spectacular scene that was well worth the early start. When an opportunity arose for yet another visit to the bergs that evening, of course I couldn't resist. After a walk to the end of the Barrows Road and a scramble across the rocks, another friend and I joined the watchers on the point and settled in to

enjoy the view and the changing light. We were delighted to see a couple of colourful kayaks head out for an evening paddle, past the bergs and along the coast. While they were gone, the tabular berg shifted on the tide and nearly closed off the opening to the harbour; fortunately there was enough room for them to get past, but the return trip was definitely a bit more challenging than the outbound one. Thanks to those two kayakers for adding extra interest to this beautiful evening!

There is a website that provides location data and background information on icebergs in Newfoundland and Labrador -- www.icebergfinder.com operates during iceberg season and gets its data from both satellite and local observer information.

Silver Thaw or Shelagh's Brush?

It's all in the timing, I suppose. In Newfoundland and Labrador, there's a belief that St. Patrick's Day brings with it a storm, usually one of the last significant storms of the winter. It's a deep-rooted tradition within the Irish-descended population in particular. The occurrence of a storm within a day or two of March 17 was so common that the storm came to be known as "St. Patrick's Storm". A lighter, less snow-laden storm occurring soon after the St. Patrick's storm soon became "Shelagh's Brush" -- the identity of Shelagh (or Sheila) has become a bit murky over the years, with some people referring to her as St. Patrick's wife while others think of her as his mother or even his housekeeper. The light snow of Shelagh's Brush was said to be the result of Shelagh taking a birch broom to the corners of the heavens in a spring-cleaning frenzy. Somehow, through the passing years, the two storms have merged in the collective psyche of Newfoundland and Labrador and now, the big storm on or about St. Patrick's Day has taken on the name of the later, less severe storm. This year, whether it belongs

to Shelagh or to the Saint himself, has packed a punch and created havoc with airline schedules. Instead of a few hours of snow, St. John's received several hours of freezing rain that glazed every surface in sight. Streets, sidewalks and parking lots became skating rinks early this morning, and the city echoed with the sound of windshields being scraped clean of their thick coatings of ice. The streets are clear now, and as the temperature rises the glittering burdens of trees and shrubs are clattering to the ground. One of the most common sights around town at this stage is a throng of intrepid

photographers bundled against the cold and rain, capturing the effects of the storm before they melt away. Whether it's the work of St. Patrick or Shelagh, whoever she might be, or just a "silver thaw" provided by Mother Nature, it's certainly beautiful in its own way; and in a place where the weather is often the first topic of conversation, it's certainly given everyone something to talk about!

Loving the Light

Winter can seem to last forever here in Atlantic Canada, but it brings with it an unexpected beauty; the angle of the sun at this time of year can create beautiful golden light in the early morning and late afternoon. It can give depth and definition to a scene that's otherwise fairly mundane, like a scrap of icy snow on the timbers of a wharf.

St. Patrick's Church, located at the western end of downtown St. John's, is situated in a spot that catches the light -- no tall buildings overshadow it, so the last rays of the winter sun find the church's tall spire and highlight it with rich, warm tones.

Late afternoon sun enriches the terracotta color of the Yellowbelly Brewery on George Street, and sparkles on a row of icicles on the railing.

The colourful name of this business harkens back to the times when Irish immigrants from the counties of Waterford and Wexford were arriving in St. John's. The Wexford men were nicknamed "Yellowbellies" after a hurling team from that county sported yellow sashes when they soundly defeated a team from Cornwall in a challenge match. The nickname followed them to Newfoundland; since Wexford men gathered in this area, the intersection of Water and George Streets became known as Yellowbelly Corner, a St. John's landmark.

The Ninja in White

A light snowfall on Monday night turned into a full-blown blizzard on Tuesday -- whiteout conditions brought traffic to a halt on major streets, and even though the snowfall amounted to only 20 cm, or 8 inches, conditions were so miserable that at times it was difficult to see across the street. The storm packed such a punch that it's already being referred to as the "White Ninja", and both schools and businesses started closing as soon as it struck. Snow day! Those words were magical when I was a student because they meant an unexpected holiday, a reprieve from the day-to-day routine of school. In our house, though, they had an even greater impact since both my parents were teachers. When a snow or ice storm arrived, the whole family would be gathered around the radio listing for that sweet announcement: Closed for the day. There were a lot of people around yesterday who know that feeling, since the closing announcements started early in the morning and continued into early afternoon. By that point, though, driving conditions were perfectly miserable. Packed snow covered the streets, and those whiteout conditions were at their peak. Some hardy souls braved the weather while others opted to stay at their offices a bit longer in hopes that things would improve.

By the next morning, streets had been cleared in most neighbourhoods and life was pretty much back to normal, or at least "winter normal". Snow clearing has been a touchy subject at City Hall for several years now, with the City maintaining that sidewalk clearing simply wasn't possible in a climate like ours and the populace maintaining that it was a necessity. For years, a snowfall in St. John's has meant that sidewalks disappeared and pedestrians took to the streets along with the cars. As the number of cars in and around the city increased, there was a corresponding rise in difficulty for those on foot; some actually had the nerve to complain about the near-constant shower of salty slush flying up from the tires of passing cars.

It's taken a long time, but City Hall finally began to listen and a greatly improved system of sidewalk clearing has been implemented. It's going well, up to a point. Sometimes, as you can see, that point is right in the middle of the block, when snow clearing has inexplicably stopped and we're back to the mountains of snow that are best negotiated with the aid of a team of Sherpas; on the whole, though, it's definitely an improvement, and as time goes on I'm sure it will get better and better, both for pedestrians and for the drivers who no longer have to worry about threading their way through the foot traffic. Here's to snow, and to snow clearing, and most of all to snow days.