Wind In The Sails Again

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

July 6, 2022, Brewster, NY- The mechanic of 36 years’ experience looked me in the eye, and begged to differ, about my intention to look around for a newer vehicle, sometime in the near future. “Senor, this vehicle’s engine, motor and frame are solid. One guy’s mistake, in not putting a gasket on the oil pan plug, led to that leak and whatever hit your oil pan could have hit any oil pan, even on a 2022 model. The rest of the stuff we did today is routine maintenance. That was a long drive you made, after all.”

All of that is true. It’s also true that a hybrid, or electric vehicle, uses less fossil fuel than a standard vehicle with an internal combustion engine. Much rubber will meet a few more roads, before the final decision on the matter is made.

In the meantime, I bid farewell to my mother, brother and sister-in-law, did not get to spend time with my sister and brother-in-law (but did enjoy a meatball grinder at Post Road Pizza, in their town of Marlborough) and had a fairly smooth drive, from Saugus to this lovely town in the uplands, east of the Hudson River.

There were traffic snags, in which I found myself. There was a long snarl, for opposing traffic, as I left Saugus. A construction project was tying up for the day, a landscaper had left his truck on the shoulder of the road, on our side, causing northbound traffic to have to use the southbound lane to go around it, which in turn required a police officer to direct the trade-off between the two flows. Further up, a second officer had to direct a trade-off between the two flows, around the project itself.

There was rush hour in the city of Worcester, which kept traffic along I-290 crawling along, for twenty-five minutes or so, with lane shrinkage helping tremendously. Then, at the Connecticut state line, an accident on I-84 southbound, involving at least two vehicles, tied up traffic for about forty minutes. Seven police cars, from both Massachusetts and Connecticut state patrols, the Tolland County Sheriff’s Office and the towns of Holland, MA and Union, CT, were on the scene, blocking the highway and safely coordinating the response to the incident. No word on any casualties. I could see a pickup truck in a ditch, with a young man standing outside it. That was all.

Waterbury, famous for its own traffic snarls, was pretty much clear, save a three-minute slowdown, west of town, due to a construction project that was winding down for the night. I was safely ensconced in my present room, at Comfort Inn, by 9:55. Plugging my laptop into an inactive wall outlet led to loss of connection to a Baha’i Zoom call, but noticing that it WAS an inactive outlet and moving to a live outlet, at least let me get the juice back. That was the lesson from North Sydney, NS, earlier this summer.

Tomorrow, I will cross the Hudson, head over to Pennsylvania, stop at D’s Diner for lunch, then go down to a small town west of Philadelphia, visit family for a bit and make my pilgrimage to Oley, and Glick’s Greenhouse.

A Maintenance Break

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

July 5, 2022, Saugus- As I mentioned previously, any journey has both rewards and costs, successes and paybacks. It’s time for Saturn to get serviced, and among other more routine items, there is a hairline crack in its oil pan. This was not observable, as recently as Saturday morning in Boothbay Harbor, but it is now. So, it will be replaced, when the new oil pan arrives tomorrow, at the shop I use here.

This gives rise to lots of questions, so let me address a few.

  1. Does this happen every time,, on a cross-country journey? No. In 2015, the Nissan Altima I had at the time died, in Newtown, CT, after getting me to this hometown of mine, on its last gasp.. Altimas have a reputation for transmission and catalytic converter issues and it was a failed “cat” that did the vehicle in. Other than that, pre-emptive maintenance, such as that which Saturn is now enjoying, has prevented problems.
  2. Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to drive a Saturn, as they are no longer manufactured? The vehicle performs well, gets gas mileage comparable to cars much smaller than itself and handles well on the highways and in inclement weather.
  3. Don’t you want a newer vehicle? Of course, and this SUV, tiding me over until sometime between this Fall and next Spring, is likely the last non-hybrid I will own. It was available when my trusty Hyundai Elantra was wrecked, nearly a year ago, and the asking price was very reasonable.
  4. Why did you drive across country in a fifteen-year-old vehicle? The SUV is solid, parts from GM are compatible with Saturns and rental cars, which I did research in advance, were scarce as hen’s teeth, especially in Atlantic Canada. I needed to drive, in order to visit L’Anse aux Meadows-a primary goal of this journey. Yes, all that just for one special place.
  5. Why not just fly? Watch your archived footage of air travel, especially this past week. See the happy faces of those stranded in airports and standing in long lines. Before that, though, check the cost of an airplane ticket, say, from Halifax, NS to St. John’s, NL: $598 one way. Matt’s Cheap Flights is probably comparable to a gas-fueled drive from Prescott to northern Newfoundland, but not by much-if they even offer such a route.
  6. Are you going to do this in the future? Not in the Saturn. As much as I love the vehicle, it is in the six figure range, and the only other SUV I ever owned quit at somewhere between 150-200,000. The Saturn is far shy of that range, and I am not going to chance it. The rest of the journeys I foresee are doable by train, local bus and rental car combinations or by air (overseas). Even southeast Newfoundland can be traveled by bus-too bad the northwest of the island does not yet have such a system. My next journey, for two weeks or so in October, to Sacramento, Carson City and St. Anthony, Idaho, will be done by train and rental car.
  7. Do you lean on others for help in such cases as now? I did, in 2015, when my financial situation was unstable. I am more fortunate, now, in that regard, and carry my own hod, so to speak, It is nice to have family with whom I can stay, for 1-2 nights, though it is not a necessity.
  8. What is your overall plan for the rest of the drive back to Arizona? I will visit some family and friends, in a few places. Overnights have been arranged in Oley, PA, Crossville, TN, Grapevine, TX and Amarillo. I have received messages to visit a few places along the route, as well. I can either camp or get a room in between those stops, as needed. I have trusted mechanics in certain spots between here and Prescott, whose services I have used before, but I don’t think I will need them.
  9. So, here I sit, in a family home in Saugus, out of everyone’s way and confident about the day and the rest of the journey.

Interdependence

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 4, 2022, Saugus- I walked past my now-renovated and much enlarged childhood home, and over to the short hill that served as backdrop for many adventures, back then.

My childhood home, reconfigured for a new generation
Side view of the new “old house”.
Blueberry Hill, Saugus, MA

It was on the above-seen hill that I slid down with my eyes closed, on both a disc and sled, somehow knowing just when to turn and avoid the tree that my sister was afraid I would hit. It was here that I told fantasy tales of ghosts and imaginary communities, to my cousins visiting from Lynn, who knew it was all bollocks, but grinned and said “Wow”, anyway.

The hill now has well-placed homes on each end. One of them has been here since the 1950s, built by a First Nations man, who reared three children here, with his Scots-Irish wife. There is an ecologically-pleasing home, slightly above it, on the hill.. On the northern end, another home or two sit, across from the Intermediate School, which thankfully looks a lot less like a prison than it did as a Middle School, built in the aftermath of the school fires of 1963.

All this reminiscing reminds me of just how interdependent we all are. What belonged to one, in the past, belongs to another now. What was a refuge to someone, decades ago, is a home to someone else today. Things like schools, hospitals, parks that were built by people of one generation may very well continue to serve their successors, without restriction based on some historical pride of place.

The other aspect of my current journey that enforces the notion of interdependence is the increasing awareness of geography, across humanity, and interest in visiting even the most remote communities. A recent visit to L’Anse aux Meadows, at the northern tip of Newfoundland, saw about ten other passenger cars and a busload of tourists, making their way around the seemingly bleak and windswept bogs (on boardwalks, of course) and gazing at snow-covered hills.

People who never saw those from other nations and cultures now routinely greet those from across the globe. People who could barely identify the major cities of their own state or province can now readily match countries on other continents, with their capitals and major cities. Thanks to more heterogeneous travel and immigration, regardless of cause, people in even the most insular communities are becoming familiar with those whose ethnicities’ names, ten years ago, they could barely pronounce.

When I was a kid, I was regarded as odd, for being so interested in people and cultures far afield from this little town, north of Boston. Nowadays, there are plenty of other people who could run circles around me, in terms of global awareness. I regard that as a good thing.

Freedom of Choice

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 3, 2022, Saugus- A spirited discussion took place, on social media today, involving several members of a family in another part of the country, all of whom I love very much-regardless of their varying political views. It was said that things got out of hand, in private messages going back and forth, and I will leave that as it is. Private is private.

We are, in fits and starts, coming out of the Coronavirusdisease 2019 pandemic. Some, including friends of mine, are still getting the scourge, and hopefully their experience will be brief. Some have reported that it is horrific, and I pray for their swift recovery. My point here is, though, that after nearly two years of restriction, a sense of oppression and all manner of obfuscation, smoke and mirrors and the like, we, the People, are gingerly getting out and about. I took 2020 off from the road, and may have done so last year as well, but for the necessity of getting our family home ready to transfer to another family. (Who seem to be well-settled in, by the way.) My family and friends hereabouts are also finally getting to enjoy life again. One set of cousins is busy with cookouts, all weekend. Another couple are going off on a long-delayed journey to somewhere special. Yet a third cousin is kayaking, on a lake up yonder.

That we are exercising our freedom to travel is not a bad thing at all. There are benefits and drawbacks to travel, and one must accept both. We also have choices to make in many other areas of life. There are benefits and drawbacks to those as well. The right to do with one’s own body what you will, is sacrosanct-so long as it does not impinge on the rights of others. It is a matter of debate, at times fierce, as to whether a fetus is a human being. Some religious scholars say it is; others say humanity begins with birth. Some lay people take the first view; others, the opposite. I say, as a man, that the final, hopefully informed and measured, decision, rests with the mother-not with the courts, including that of Public Opinion, or with the Legislatures of different states, or of the nation at large.

The right to defend oneself is also sacrosanct. The Creator put us here, and it is up to the Creator as to when we leave. There is, however, nothing that says anyone has the right to end the life of another, in a random and capricious, or even intentional and malicious, spate of violence. So, I do not subscribe to the credo that says possession and use of assault weapons is a God-given right. (As I write this, six more people died at the hands of an out-of-control lunatic, in Highland Park, IL and an indeterminate number of police officers used what looks like excessive force, to end the life of a gunman, who had thrown his weapon into a car, before attempting to flee, in Akron, OH). Violence begets violence.

Every act we do in this life has benefits, and has consequences. I have learned to accept both.

Moseying Down Home

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Posted by on in collaborating, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 2, 2022, Saugus- Tom and Jamie were waiting patiently, and I got over to breakfast by 7. We continued our conversation from last night, for a while, then I got organized and back on the road. The two stops left, before Saugus, were Stonewall Kitchen, where I picked up some gift items for family and friends on the return trip and Green Acre Baha’i School, where prayers for safety and assistance were offered, in a quiet atmosphere-as I was the only person there, until a small group of mothers and children came back from what appeared to have been an outing.

Mom was very happy that I came by her place first. The stuff in the car could wait. I already have the motel booked for 3 nights. She is doing well and has a very positive attitude towards life. I think it rubbed off on me. We talked for about about ninety minutes, while occasionally looking at her muted TV screen, with looping news repeating itself over and over, as looping news usually does. It was mostly complaints about this year’s July 4 weekend, so neither of us needed to hear it.

Even if the weekend ends up being fairly quiet, I will have done the right thing by being here.

Down East Meander

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 1, 2022, Boothbay Harbor- A “just-in-case” phone call to a cousin and his wife, in this salubrious bay view town resulted in a dinner and accommodations invitation, which came at just the right time. I had enjoyed the drive down the Maine coast from Jonesboro, and had deposited my rent check at a B of A branch. The search for my cousin’s gravesite, in Augusta, was futile, though, and a brief visit to his parent’s tombstones at the same cemetery at least gave me a sense of purpose and a chance to regain focus.

I chose to mostly bypass the numerous idyllic scenes that dot this magnificent state’s coast. Despite how it may appear to some, this is not a journey that is focused on scenery. It is more one focused on spirit. There are family connections, especially in and around my hometown-though holiday plans will no doubt affect how many people I actually see. So, visiting cousin Tom and his wife, Jamie, will likely prove more the exception than the rule.

Around lunchtime, I found a delightful spot, Warren’s Waterfront, overlooking the Penobscot River, and Fort Knox-the Maine version, where no gold is known to have been kept. Like its Kentucky namesake, though, it is named for General Henry Knox, who was the first Secretary of War, and who lived in nearby Thomaston, after his public service was over. It was a key post during the War of 1812.

The Penobscot River, with Fort Knox in the background, Bucksport, ME
A closer view of Fort Knox, Bucksport, ME

After a light lunch at Warren’s, I took a stroll on Bucksport’s Riverwalk, which features a series of Alphabet Exercise cues.

Bucksport Riverwalk

After this, I headed directly to Bank of America, some ninety miles south, via backroads. Doubling back to Augusta’s Blue Star Cemetery was, at first, a bit nerve-wracking, as Google Maps has the place close to downtown (It is not) and involving the city’s busiest roundabout. (Yes, but not in the direction indicated.) It took a trip to Augusta City Hall to get things straight. A helpful pair of workers gave me the right directions and before long, I paid my respects to Aunt and Uncle-and by extension, to their son.

The grilled salmon and fixings, served by Tom and Jamie, were followed by a discussion of an interesting extended family member, and reminiscences about our branches of the family. Now, as with all days-serene and hectic alike, it is time to enjoy the comfort of the Guesthouse.

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.

Drumbeats in The Key of Life

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

June 29, 2022, Amherst, NS- I found an engaging restaurateur, who was having a birthday, at Bras d’Or View Restaurant, about eight miles west of Highlands Motel. It was worth the drive, as the place reminds me nicely of my favourite spots back in Prescott. The locals in Bras d’Or Village love Vanessa and she returns the sentiment. Breakfast was a heartfelt meal.

Finally connecting with my Miqmak friend, on the south side of the Lake, I headed first to Iona, a small lake port, and got a sense of village life near the Reserve of Eskasoni.

St. Columba’s Catholic Church, Iona, NS
Rail bridge, Iona, NS
Bras d’Or Lake, at Iona, NS

I then headed over to Eskasoni, and inquired at a couple of stores, as to the residence of a Miqmak elder, whose name had been given me by a mutual friend. A young man who overheard the conversation offered to take me to them elder’s home. When the watchdog barked at the young man, I thanked him and he left. The elder came out, asked who I was and sized me up. When I stated my business, he invited me inside and we talked at length, over pie a la mode and tea, about Baha’i matters and life on the Reserve. After some time had passed, he excused himself, to go take care of a work-related matter. His daughter came and dropped off a box of items and two other Baha’is came in and out, while the elder’s wife sat and conversed with us, while doing her own crafts project. In time, my friend A. P. came in and the conversation continued for another two hours or so. The other Baha’is left and A.P. offered to show me Eskasoni’s Baha’i Centre, a few miles away. We went over there and he told me some particulars of how the Centre came to be and how it is being renovated now.

A. P. and me, Eskasoni, NS
Eskasoni Baha’i Centre, NS

After we thanked our hostess, A.P. and I left, with him guiding me back towards the Canso Causeway, using the backroads. It was a very rewarding day for me, listening to the sometimes complicated views of the Mikmaq and to their Creation stories. As in the United States, and elsewhere in the world where First Nations people and settlers have variously clashed and made efforts at getting along. Nova Scotia has seen a lot of injury and misunderstanding.

Much of this has come from failure to listen, especially on the part of those who do not maintain silence long enough to process the mood of the situation or to observe body language. Promotion of an agenda, above all else, has only built unnecessary walls. Then, there is the manipulation, the abuse of children, adolescents and women, by those who should be trustworthy. The Miqmak, like the Dineh, Hopi, Inde (Apache), Cree, Salish, Inuit and others-even the Beothuk, who are viewed as “extinct”, have earned the right to Truth and Reconciliation-in a real way, not just monetarily, but to be seen as full partners in any community that is theirs by right.

I ended this day by encouraging a young lady who was a new server at Big Stop Restaurant, Aulds Cove, just on the mainland side of Canso Causeway. The meal hit the spot and she did everything right. It was no detriment that she was using cue cards. That shows initiative and the desire to do a job well. Finding a place for the night, I noted that Amherst has a laundromat and car wash, near Comfort Inn, so it’s here that I settled in.

Tomorrow, I will cross southern New Brunswick and return to the United States, after my longest stay outside the country since 2014.

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.