I’ve already waxed poetic about Newfoundland’s dynamic culture, and the unique feeling of being at the very beginning (or end) of land and time. Now, the windswept edginess of her landscape and wildlife deserves its own portrait, coloured by the artistry of Galen’s photography and the keenness of his partner Cairo’s birding eye. Rugged, raw,…

“Is ye a Newfoundlander?” Skipper Lukey asks/challenges. “Indeed I is, me ol’ cock, and long may your big jib draw!” my son and his partner boisterously shout back at the completion of their “Screeching-in” ceremony at Christian’s Pub. They’ve downed a disgusting rum shot (so bad it’ll make you screech) and kissed a frozen cod…

Dukes of Hazzard at 8:00, 8:30 Newfoundland. Canadian childhood included constant reminders that Newfoundland is special. Apart. So far gone that it gets its own time zone. It really does feel like we’re perched tenuously on the edge of everything here. But not the end of the world, like at Finisterre which was clearly the…