Oh, the joys I recall of growing up in outport Newfoundland are many. Perhaps one of my favourite recollections is the arrival of summer to the outports. The glorious splendor of the landscape unfolded like magic before my eyes. There, in my memory, the arrival of summer is captured as a precious treasure from the time of wonder that is childhood.  Memories of the tiny communities nestled along the coastline. Yes, summertime moved in and case a magical spell across the land.

Green and yellow dandelions covered the fields. All the youngsters agreed that they were the right height for ‘runnin through and rollin’ in,’ just watch out for the bumblebees!
All along the beaches the sun’s rays made each wave sparkle and shine like a salty jewel. Oh, what a joy to greet the morning. The air so pungent you could taste the salty brine on the tip of your tongue.

Up in the woods new plant life grew thick and plentiful. Ferns unfolded and spread their lacey, graceful foliage across the green mossy ground. The bright red crackerberries grew everywhere along the paths where we walked. Crackerberries just waiting to be picked and gobbled up by the mouthful. Then the thrill of being the first to spy the orange markings of Labrador Tea. This mysterious plant, renown by the wise and all-knowing medicine women of the community for its potent healing powers.

Moving deep into the woods where the sunlight is scarce, Old Man’s Beard hung from every tree. No problem to figure out where the name came from for sure. It looked just like Great Unlce Narcock’s scraggly old beard.

Then there were the marshlands. The wet, spongy barrens with bogs to suck you up! The bogs, those huge brown mud holes, were everywhere. What odds! This was the place where the big orange bakeapples grew ripe for the pickin’. Watch where you trod, look out for the bog!

Oh what a joy those days of summer, up and gone from daylight to dark. Off in the dory across the shore and return soppin wet. Racing the bike over every nook and cranny till someone warns to tell your mother. Then under the moonlight, playing kiss tag with the boys and not minding if you got caught!

Can you picture it now? Have I awakened in you some fond memory of your childhood, enjoying one fine day in outport Newfoundland?

Judith Ann Keough
Stouffville, ON