It’s been a great summer here in Winnipeg—one of the best. (But then, my memory’s spotty and every precious summer is the best.) No mosquitoes—except the one that got me on the ankle the other day. No forest fires—although we had a couple of hazy days from eastern fires. No tornadoes—although Alonsa, only an hour west of here, had a bad one with a fatality. But here, in my southwest corner of the city, summer’s been near perfect. 
I’ve enjoyed every moment of it and spent happy hours biking the Harte and Grand Trunk Trails. Great summer for berries and I’ve stashed away containers of saskatoons and chokecherries.
If there was one word to describe this summer for me, it would ‘biking.’ I’ve been trying to convince myself that I can do a more ambitious bike trip along the Baltic next summer and have discovered that I love it. It’s so much faster than walking, but slow enough to experience nature. . . like flowers and clouds.
Now if only I had a dog's nose...
