Category Archives: Hiking and Nature

“Manitou Likes You!”

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 2, 2022, Colorado Springs- After edging along I-25, due to an unfortunate collision, I made a detour over to Manitou Springs, a most pleasant town west of Garden of the Gods and north of Seven Falls, as well as being a gateway to Pikes Peak. My once favoured lunch spot there, Hearts of Jerusalem, closed during the COVID period. In its place is Good Karma Coffee House and Deli, a thoroughly delightful husband and wife-operated spot, with a short, but well-conceived menu. After an “Inside-Out Grilled Cheese”, I walked on over to The Taos Maos gift shop and bought a nicely-made wind chime, which will accompany another that will get from Arcosanti, in a few weeks. Maos is as interesting as its name implies, and has small items that can enhance even the simplest home.

After that was done, I remarked to the parking lot attendants, two very agreeable and helpful ladies, how much I like Manitou. Their response was: “Manitou likes you!” Moments like that are always affirming. I got up to La Foret Conference and Retreat Center, just northeast of downtown Colorado Springs, in mid-afternoon, and checked in to Colorado East Baha’i School an hour early. We began study and discussion of meaningful social action, this evening and will continue over the next 2.5 days.

I am in a comfortable little cabin, with one roommate-a nice gentleman, and six other cabin mates, all very considerate and agreeable people. There is an abundance of children and teenagers here, also very considerate and high-functioning people. As we are preparing to get ready for sleep, thunder and lightning are all around us. Rain has come to CS to the first time in two weeks, a welcome easterly extension of the monsoon.

I bid you all good night, with a scene from Manitou Springs and one from La Foret.

Yes, Manitou is ONE of Colorado’s Christmas cities.
Inglis Hall, named for La Foret’s founders.

Highway 160, Old and New

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel, Uncategorized

September 1, 2022, Walsenburg, CO- The message outside the Bistro was endearing: “In the quilt of life, friends are the sticks that hold the quilt together.” The Farm Bistro, in downtown Cortez, is a place that I have patronized each time, save one, that I have been in Colorado’s southwestern commercial hub, since 2015. What matters to me, about a business establishment, even more than its products, is the reception I get when I enter and how I am treated while there. The Farm Bistro excels in that regard. Heck, the manager even gave me a peanut butter cookie for having been patient while the staff was serving a tour group. As long as we have eyes, ears and hearts, it pays to use them in a way that reassures others that their efforts matter.

I left Kayenta, an hour or so southwest of Cortez, after a delightful breakfast, courtesy of Hampton Inn. Across the highway from the hotel, the full geologic variety of Kayenta is in view. There were numerous families, of different compositions and sizes, in the wing where I stayed, but all were quiet and considerate. The Navajo Nation is a place where face masks are still required in public, so there I was with an N-95. At least we don’t have to pull them up and down, with every bite or sip.

Black Mesa, Kayenta, AZ

Before going to The Farm, I noticed a man sitting on the corner of a gas station lot. He had a sign that read: “It’s my birthday. Any little bit helps, and God bless.” This was a new one, and even though I normally don’t hand money to sign-bearers, the notion resonated that this was a real birthday of a human being, and he had one other companion, who was bringing him a ball cap, food and water. I gave him a bill and was thanked profusely. Then, I went and enjoyed a Yak Burger and salad at The Farm Bistro.

Going past Durango and Pagosa Springs, I came to Treasure Falls, a small preserve at the foot of Wolf Creek Pass’s formidable ascent. I had stopped briefly at the bottom viewpoint of this small cascade, a few times. Today, I hiked up to the Falls topmost viewpoint, where on a good day, one can feel the spray. Colorado has not had as much rain as Arizona and Nevada, this monsoon, so the Falls were not as potent as they have been in past years.

Nonetheless, the hike energized me, in the warm mid-afternoon, far more than an iced coffee would have.

Treasure Falls, near Pagosa Springs, Colorado

Treasure Falls

I was a bit tired here, but the rest of the hike was energizing-and unlike some other walks I’ve taken, I stayed on the established path. A group of other men did not-and advised against following their route.

“Primitive” trail from Treasure Falls to parking lot

This poor little one was struggling in the afternoon heat.

Spicebush Butterfly, near Treasure Falls parking lot

Once back on the road, it was an easy drive up and over Wolf Creek Pass. I spotted an overturned semi-trailer, on the opposite side of the road, with a large sign that said “KEEP OUT!”. My guess is that it has been laying there for some days now. I drove on, through South Fork, Del Norte, Monte Vista and Alamosa, before dinner time came-and I stopped at Lu’s Main Street Cafe, Blanca. Milynn served up a sharp and well-prepared Stuffed Sopapilla. It is a fabulous place to dine, and a worthy replacement for Del’s Diner, in nearby Fort Garland, which closed during the pandemic and now sits, looking forlorn and sad, at the east end of town. My only caveat about Lu’s is that the waitresses are high school students and closing time, on a school night, is around 6:30. They at least take their schedule as seriously as they do their jobs. Milynn and her co-worker were pleasant, but made it clear that they needed to get done soon. Nonetheless, when I come this way again, I will stop at Lu’s, hopefully earlier than I did this evening.

I got into Walsenburg, about an hour later, settling in to Anchor Motel. Other than a brief, but loud, dispute between two apparently drunken men, the place has been quiet. Walsenburg is a businesslike, but friendly, town.

Joy In A Sea of Sand

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Posted by on in Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 31, 2022, Kayenta- I looked at the normally dry Red Lake, about fifty miles southwest of here, and was amazed to see it full! Traffic and lack of a safe place to pull off kept me from photographing the scene, but seasonal lakes are a definite joy to behold.

I am here, on the way to southern Colorado, and the Colorado East Baha’i Summer School, to which I was invited a month or so ago. There are always numerous visual delights on this route, US Highway 160, which starts near Tuba City and continues eastward, to near Poplar Bluff, Missouri. I have been on the route, as far east as Pittsburg, Kansas.

The Badlands, grasslands and Hoodoo country, from Cameron, AZ to the Ute town of Towaoc, Colorado seem energized and rejuvenated by this year’s specially productive monsoon rains. Even those areas normally devoid of vegetation are showing a certain lively energy. The sandy wonderland that is Monument Valley finds its southwestern terminus here, in this small but vibrant Dineh community. So, I have stopped here for the evening, as being among Dineh people has augured well for me, at the start of any journey-whether within the Southwest or transcontinental.

Monument Valley is a sea of sand, but what marvels that sand has helped create, with help from wind and water! I will begin tomorrow with a few photos and meditations of joy.

Hiatus for The Rushing Streams

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, children, collaborating, Education, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 29, 2022- Lynx Creek was impassible, as friend Akuura and I looked out over it, on a short hike celebrating a break in the monsoon. That is okay by me, as the creeks and streams of our area need to have a high flow, if for no other reason than to ever so slightly raise the water table, and flow level of the rivers into which they feed: Agua Fria, Verde and Bill Williams (which in turn feeds into the Colorado River.)

The monsoon itself is on hiatus, with sunny weather predicted from now until Friday, when there are expected to be more storms throughout the weekend. Next week, from Labor Day until Thursday, 9/8, will bring another hiatus, then more monsoon rains, the following weekend. Still and all, this summer has brought the best monsoon we’ve had here in many a year.

Here are some Lynx Creek scenes.

This was at the west end of a residential area.
Scene just off a Forest Service road, in Salida Gulch area
Upstream, in Salida Gulch

Where a cross-creek trail washed out

This area is one of those in which I have spent little time, up to now. It is definitely worth more exploration, in the weeks of early October and those of November.

I returned to a frequent haunt today, finding that the return of hot sunny days affects some adults and children in a not altogether pleasant way. I sense that humidity makes many people disagreeable-and there is also the difficulty that some have with sleeping, on sultry nights. I am fortunate to have ceiling fans that keep my sleep patterns from being interrupted. There is AC, in a pinch, but I try to keep the use of that to a minimum. Other people, particularly in high rise apartment buildings and in older houses,are not so fortunate.

I like the idea of living each day to the fullest, though, regardless of weather.

Back to the Woods

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social

July 21, 2022- So begins an unusual four days. I will shortly head up towards Bellemont Baha’i School, for the first of two kitchen helper sessions, (today and tomorrow), with the next being July 30-31. Getting back tomorrow night, then Saturday and part of Sunday will be spent caring for 15 pounds of lovable, if willful, white fur.

I have had an affinity for Bellemont, since I first visited in 1981. Back then, only “primitive” (tent) camping was an option. The only motels or hotels were 20 miles away, in either Flagstaff to the east or Williams to the west. The kitchen, so to speak, was an outdoor “chuckwagon” set-up. People sat around, well into the night, and engaged in deep conversations, many of them of a spiritual nature.

Nowadays, we have a state-of-the-art, enclosed kitchen. There are cabins, for male and female attendees. There is a bathhouse-with male and female facilities. The old green cabin, one of the original classrooms, has been renovated and still serves as a study center. The library, above the bathhouse, is an ancillary classroom. The main clients, these days, are adolescents, aged 11-14. I have helped out, off and on, for three years now. (2020 was a hiatus for everyone), with the camps-from the Spring cleanup to the Fall breakdown, and as many camps as my other activities allow, over the summer.

The kids are wonderful and several longtime Baha’i friends comprise the staff, so it makes for a time of vigourous, but enjoyable activity. I will be offline until tomorrow night; thus, this early post.

Golden Wrap-up

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 17, 2022- Upon the conclusion of each journey I’ve taken, since 2011, at least one family member asks “What was the highlight of your trip?” I can most often rattle off something that stands out, yet there is, truth be known, more than one highlight-especially when I’ve been away from Home Base for a month.

The two anchors, as it stands, were the first stop, Homolovi State Park, where I returned an arrowhead to its guardians, the ancestors of the Hopi people, and L’Anse aux Meadows, where the first Europeans of record met the Indigenous people of the Americas. It would seem an ironic twist to have laid the artifact back in sacred soil, when so much of the San Francisco Peaks, an area holy to many First Nations people, was under siege from a fire, apparently ignited by a random camper trying to burn his refuse. It was my first instruction from my spirit guides.

From there, the road presented a mix of family and friend visits, with stops at places of historical, social, natural and spiritual significance. The historical gems included Marland Mansion, in Ponca City, OK; Prescott, ON Riverwalk; St,. Joseph’s Oratory, Montreal; Provincial Assembly Building, Fredericton, NB; Shediac, NB; the villages and towns along the Cabot Trail, NS-especially Cheticamp and Ingonish; L’Anse aux Meadows, NL; St. Croix Island International Peace Monument, ME; State Capitol, Nashville TN. These, of course, each have natural features that add luster to the historical aspects of the place. This is especially true of L’Anse aux Meadows, with its stark subarctic and maritime beauty.

The natural treasures also included Lake Ontario Park, Kingston, ON; Moosehead Lake, Greenville, ME; Wilmot Park, Fredericton; Bras d’Or Lake and Cape Breton Highlands, NS; Gros Morne and Terra Nova National Parks, NL; Pippy Park, St; John’s, NL; Deer Lake Park, NL; Fundy National Park, NB; anywhere along the coast of Maine; Natchez Trace Parkway, TN. and of course, the open Atlantic Ocean.

Spiritually, I felt especially at ease in and around the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL ; Lake Ontario Park; St. Lawrence Riverwalk, Prescott, ON; Waterfront Park, Shediac; looking out anywhere along Bras d’Or Lake; Grand Faillante, French Mountain and Green Cove, Cape Breton Highlands; Matthew Head, Fundy National Park; Green Acre Baha’i School, Eliot, ME; Natchez Trace; and Centennial Park, Nashville.

Socially, my family and I were there for one another, in Sarcoxie, MO; Boothbay Harbor, ME; Saugus and Lynnfield, MA; Exton, PA and Grapevine, TX. Likewise, long-time friends in Enid, OK; Mishawaka, IN; Oley, PA; Crossville, TN; Amarillo, TX and Moriarty, NM made travel a lot lighter. I also feel like lasting new friendships were made in Montreal; McAdam, NB; Wycocomagh, Bras d’Or Village and Eskasoni, NS; Doyles, St.Lunaire-Griquet and Grand Bank, NL; Jonesboro and Perry, ME (the last, as long as the cranky restaurant owner isn’t around); Hohenwald, TN and Tallulah, LA. I missed friends in Wilkes-Barre and Bedford, PA; Harrisonburg, VA; Wildersville, TN; other family members in Maine, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania- and I will see them again. The purpose in all this journeying is indeed to “make new friends and keep the old”, as the old children’s tune goes.

For the time being, I will quickly get back into life here at Home Base. Baha’i camp, near Flagstaff, a day of dog-sitting and whatever else surfaces will keep me in peace and harmony for the rest of July. We’ll talk about August and September, a little later.

The Parthenon, Natchez Trace, and The Sanctity of Family

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel, Uncategorized

July 10, 2022, Florence, AL- The woman, standing 5’2”, and looking for all the world like a present-day Madonna, arrived at her family’s gathering, and instantly commanded the room. Her strapping teenaged son, who had been alternating between being a responsible big brother and goofing around, for the benefit of the three girls at the teenagers’ table, straightened up with a brief, sharp glance from Mama. Her husband, likewise, exercised a measure of control- distributing portions of food and drink from the adults’ table. to the teens and the younger children. The after-church dinner thus proceeded smoothly, in the small, cozy southern Tennessee eatery. I sensed, though, that there was nothing but love in this family-no patriarchy, per se, just a devoted couple who treasure all their children, and one another.

I had left my friends’ house, in a bucolic section of Crossville, a little after 10 a.m., stopping for a few photographs along the route I had taken to yesterday’s Food Truck event. The most breathtaking was this view of Sparta, TN, from an overlook.

Sparta, TN from U.S. 70

I was given an inkling to spend a bit of time in Nashville, a city that I have tended to overlook, in many of the journeys across our home continent. So, a brief visit was first made to the Tennessee State Capitol.

Tennessee State Capitol building, Nashville

I headed out of downtown, along a route that took me to The Parthenon, a recreation of the original building by that name, in Athens, Greece. Tennesseans treasure the Classical Age, and this museum is the centerpiece of Centennial Park, a vast and salubrious gathering place for all of Nashville. This lush urban park was dedicated in 1897, one year after the centenary of Tennessee’s statehood. Parthenon has two floors: The first hosts special collections of art; the present exhibit being selections from the private collection of James M. Cowan, a Tennessee native and businessman base din the Chicago area. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5e305abfabc0e4424fd1454a/t/5f0ceb6694be7a33f9f830bf/1594682228862/15139+Parthenon+Cowan+brochure_PROOF+%281%29.pdf

On the second floor, there stands an impressive statue of the Greek goddess Athena. Here are some scenes of the lady, the building and the park itself.

Nashville’s Parthenon, seen from the west
Lengthwise view of the Parthenon’s outer walkway
Statue of Greek goddess Athena, Parthenon of Nashville
Information about statue of Athena Parthenos

The true circumstances of this woman’s life are lost in the mists of time; yet it is clear that she had a powerful personality, being influential in a variety of areas, from education and craftsmanship to the conduct of warfare. That such personages were dubbed gods and goddesses, by pastoral people, is not surprising.

I wandered about the park itself, after spending about a half hour in the museum, which was about to close, anyway. Here’s Lake Watauga, just north of the Parthenon.

Lake Watauga, Centennial Park, Nashville
Lake Watauga, west shore
Central Garden, Centennial Park

After this long overdue attention to the delights of Nashville, I headed west and took in a sliver of Natchez Trace Parkway, which I encountered while looking for Loveless Cafe, a small restaurant southwest of Nashville. The Trace runs for 440 miles, from Nashville to Natchez, and offers a fine cross-section of Southern wilderness.

View from a northern bridge, Natchez Trace Parkway
Duck River Bluff, Natchez Trace Parkway
Trail to Jackson Falls, Natchez Trace Parkway

The Falls themselves were a trickle, as were other waterfalls in the area. The South could use more rain, as could any number of places. I left the Parkway and spotted a sign for Hohenwald, a town whose name means “High Forest”, in German. It has a sanctuary for elephants and is a haven for people in recovery. It is also home to very devout people, including the family mentioned above. The women and girls were conservatively dressed; the men and boys looked more like they had been working a bit. Nonetheless, they were all very relaxed and could have been any close-knit family, anywhere-an attractive, happy bunch. The very sweet waitress took good care of all of us, and it made for a pleasant end to a solemn (Martyrdom of the Bab) but hopeful day. I came to this northern Alabama town, on the Tennessee River, around 9:30.

I will long remember the strong women, both real and stuff of legend, encountered today. It was interesting that, just before leaving Centennial Park, I encountered two young men who claim to worship God the Mother.

An Invisible Frontier

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

June 30, 2022, Jonesboro, Maine- The breakfast serving room was stifling, at the Comfort Inn, Amherst, NS, and I had some concern for the well-being of the attendant. She was quite vocal about the heat-mainly from the ovens in her immediate food preparation space. I thought it would be a good idea for the management to consider better ventilation. A good worker, to paraphrase the old United Black College Fund ad, is terrible to waste. We patrons at least were to take our food to our rooms. COVID protocols are still in place, in many establishments.

Two very different reactions to my presence in Amherst were to present themselves, as errands were discharged. When I went to the laundromat, the attendant was friendly at first, but once I told her where I was from, the smile faded and I was asked what I was doing in Amherst. At least I was left alone to complete my washing and drying. The people at the car wash were a lot nicer, and gladly exchanged four quarters for a dollar coin, so the wash could proceed.

My business in the Chignecto area complete, I drove over to Fundy National Park, in New Brunswick, and caught a few scenes of that home of high tides.

Mathews Head, Fundy National Park, NB
View of Bay of Fundy, near Point Wolfe, Fundy National Park

Any thoughts I might have had of further exploring Fundy were brought to a close by the approaching rain. It got quite heavy, at times, as I drove west, on TransCanada Highway 2. In and around Saint John, the province’s largest city, the rain was the heaviest. Being rush hour made things go that much slower-and of course, there was road construction, with lane closures. Nonetheless, the people along the Loyalist Trail (Saint John was a haven for those loyal to the Crown, during the American Revolution.) have the rush hour thing down to a fine art, with taking turns entering the open lane de rigeur.

A relatively short time, maybe forty minutes, later, I was at the border crossing, where the inspector briefly peered into my back seat, glanced at my passport and said “Welcome home”. If only we lived in a world where everyone could have that kind of a border greeting, each time. The invisible frontier, however, attracts its share of grifters and smugglers-so sometimes, the rest of us need to exercise forbearance.

Beyond Calais, Maine, I took note of these scenes along the St. Croix River.

Lighthouse along St. Croix River, south of Calais, ME
St. Croix River, between Maine and New Brunswick

A few miles further south, the St. Croix Island International Peace Monument commemorates the first, ill-fated French expedition, led by Pierre Dugua, an explorer, soldier and fur trapper. The group landed on St. Croix Island in the Fall of 1604, with the intention of claiming the area for France. A harsh winter ensued, and despite the assistance of the Passamaquoddy people, who were native to the area, the party lost about half of its members. In the spring of 1605, Dugua and his group departed the area, for another point on the Canadian mainland. Canada and the United States jointly maintain this historical site.

Depiction of a member of the St. Croix Island exploration party of 1604-5.
St Croix Island International Peace Monument, Calais, ME
View of St, Croix River, from Peace Monument
Depiction of a Passamaquoddy woman, St. Croix International Peace Monument

The presence of this monument underscores the value of seeing that “The Earth is but one country and Mankind its citizens”- Baha’u’llah.

I continued on to the small town of Perry. There, a restaurant called New Friendly featured a cheerful, talkative waitress, who seemed to connect with everyone, a shy teenaged girl, who was looking around for something productive she might do and a visibly flustered, rather crochety woman, who seemed to be the owner. I was served by the waitress, and enjoyed a nice meal of fried clams-with full bellies, which I love, being a son of New England. I was the last one in the door, and so was about the last one to pay. The owner took my payment, seemingly glad to see me leave.

The end of the line, for tonight, is Blueberry Patch Motel and Cabins. I am in a tiny cabin, recommended to me by the night clerk, who said I had just made it through the door, before she turned out the Welcome sign. Yes, I got the last cabin-with one motel room going unclaimed. Rural Mainers do things a bit differently, and the invisible frontier, between being hard at work and being tired enough to stop for the night, takes on a different hue up here.

From One Bit of Heaven to the Next

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

June 28, 2022, North Sydney, NS-

Channel Head Lighthouse, NL

The return ferry out of Channel-Port aux Basques was a much more elaborate arrangement than that which I took from North Sydney, five days ago. It is all part of the run-up to the Canada Day weekend, which is also the Independence Day weekend. Our two great nations have long collaborated on celebration of their respective nationhood, so it all makes sense. I lined up my vehicle, with at least 200 others, two hours before loading. A breakfast cafeteria was available, in the Ferry Terminal, so I got coffee and a bagel with cheddar cheese. Sitting back in the Saturn, devotions and random thoughts whiled away the remaining ninety minutes.

Once we were underway, and the above scene passed by, I was pleasantly occupied, by turns, with observing the passing ocean, reading a book I had purchased while at the Baha’i House of Worship, having lunch and napping. Then, Nova Scotia came back into view and before long, I was ensconced in Highland Motel- a spare, but adequate, establishment that is clean and comfortable, at least. I launched into writing about my last day or so in Newfoundland, only to have the laptop quit on me. It turns out that the electrical wall outlet in my room has no power. The desk clerk, already surly from dealing with other guests who were unnecessarily argumentative (IMHO) and rather rude to him, just shrugged his shoulders. I am now getting ready to go to bed ( FYI: This post has been completed, four days later).

Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, and for that matter-New Brunswick, Maine and states clear down to Alabama, are part of the geological uplift known to us as the Appalachians. The same geological features can be found in eastern Quebec, Labrador, Prince Edward Island, southern Greenland, Iceland, the British Isles, Norway and all along the western seaboard of Europe, into Morocco. An International Appalachian Trail exists, in one form or another, in many of these regions. Indeed, an Eastern Continental Recreational Trail is also in place, from Key West to St. John’s. I have whimsically thought, at times, of taking on the challenge of that long walk-but there is, realistically, much more for me to do than to shuck it all and walk for 2-3 years.

Nonetheless, I have found many elements of Heaven on Earth, in so many places visited, these past few decades, both in terms of scenery and of humanity. Newfoundland and Cape Breton make two more. I will be back to both, in 2-3 years, for more focused, selective visits, knowing that my life, far from being more relaxed and sanguine, is just getting busier-though in a happy and rewarding way. I feel good and have more energy now, than even two or three years ago.

Tomorrow, hopefully, will find me visiting some First Nations friends, along the shore of Bras d’Or Lake.

Breakfast of Champions and A Long Ride

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

June 27, 2022, Channel- Port aux Basques, NL- I was warmly welcomed this morning, into the main house of Abbie’s Garden, and directed to sit in a place by myself at a well-set table. The arrangement, of each party being seated separately, apparently is a Newfoundland tradition, derived from the British Isles. Having not been anywhere in that archipelago, other than London, this is new to me. It was very pleasant, though, as the host took egg orders, poured beverages and proudly presented a superbly-plated hot breakfast of eggs, crisp bacon, pancakes and fresh biscuits. Condiments were in serving vessels, not in their store containers. Juice (orange, in my case) was the last item presented. My maternal grandmother would be very pleased.

Prior to breakfast, I went around the garden and over to the chicken coop, where the flock, still inside the predator-proof coop, came to the netting and greeted me. All the little beaks were at the wire netting, clucking or peeping away.

Here are some scenes of Abbie’s Garden. First, here is The Loft, where I spent the night.

The Loft, with Main House in the background., Abbie’s Garden, Grand Bank, NL

Garden, outside The Loft
Central Garden, between The Loft and Main House
Garden Path, in the firs
South Garden
Boo, birds!
The brood says Hello!
The path not taken

Upon bidding a fond farewell to the family at Abbie’s, I resolved to check out some spots along the road in the Burin Peninsula. Here are a few of these.

Grand Beach, east of Grand Bank town
Grand Beach, looking north
Mortier Bay, looking south
Placentia Bay, at Swift Current, NL
Placentia Bay, at Swift Current, NL
The sign says it all

About an hour after leaving the Burin, I came upon Joey’s Lookout, named after Joseph R. Smallwood, the first Provincial Premier of Newfoundland and Labrador. The place overlooks his home town of Gambo.

Gambo, NL from Joey’s Lookout, just west of Gander
Freshwater Bay, at Gambo, NL

As dinner hour approached, I was at a park overlooking the Humber River, just outside Deer Lake. A few other picnickers were at the lone table, so I took a bench and watched a lone fly fisherman, in the river, with his hip waders on.

Humber River, at Deer Lake, NL
Humber River, at Deer Lake, NL

As I got closer to this port city, the grandeur of the Long Range Mountains made itself known again.

Long Range Mountains, southward from Codroy Valley, NL

Once settled in my room, at Hotel Port aux Basques, the chatter and antics of a group of teens caught my attention. They were likely enjoying the first days of summer, as school just let out in Newfoundland, last Friday. This is part of the park where they were hanging out. No, I did not photograph the group!

Royal Canadian Legion Memorial Park, Channel-Port aux Basques, NL

The long drive was not so bad. Tomorrow, I bid farewell to this consummately civilized people and their salubrious island.