I still remember the first winter I spent in Alberta — the soft hush after the first big snowfall, the way streetlights turned ordinary sidewalks into little rooms of warm gold. I was new, carrying one duffel and a head full of questions: where to shop, how to find neighbours, whether the cold would ever…
The first time I arrived in Fort McMurray I remember a low, clean light over the Athabasca River and the sudden hush of trees after a long highway. I’d come for work, but I stayed because the summers felt vast and kind, and because the people here—tough, warm, ready to help—made a strange place feel…
One unhurried afternoon I sat with a cup of tea and a map of Alberta, tracing highways with my finger and imagining where I — or a friend — might want the next chapter to unfold. Over time I learned that retirement isn’t a single spot on a map; it’s a set of needs: health…