Oh, Canada.
I don’t want to leave you.
It’s too soon. I want more.
I don’t care about cold, or snow, or wintery pictures.
I’m not done loving you yet.
I promise you, I am coming back.
This is not goodbye. This is “see you later, eh!”
Wait for me.
Adverse weather conditions further east and north have caused us to cut our trip through Canada short. Our plan was to head for New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, but there are high winds and too much snow and ice for safe travelling in an RV.
I am devastated about that, but unwilling to drive into danger to pursue my desire to see the Island.
I have wanted to go to PEI ever since I read Lucy Maud Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’ books as a young girl. It was definitely on the bucket list for this holiday, and I’m afraid it will have to remain there for my next visit to Canada.
So, we have decided to go south rather than east.
Sorrow.
Philipsburg, St Armand… Finally.
I have wanted for so long to be here.
It’s a small, quite old-fashioned village. It’s late afternoon on a cold day, so there is nobody about. The crisp air bites at my face as I stand at the shore of Lake Champlain. My mind sees the images of the lake in different seasons that I have looked at so often, taken from this same vantage point.
Today my photographs are of the frozen lake, still deep in its hibernation over winter. I now have a complete set.
The Canadian Legion branch 82 is closed today, but I know what it is like inside anyway.
The church nearby is also closed, but in my mind I see a happy couple and a proud father on the steps, smiling for photographs and enjoying their special day.
I know a number of the locals, although they do not know me.
I take photographs for the memories, but I know I will return. Part of my heart remains here. I’m never really far away.
It’s common knowledge that the French language is far more prominent here in Quebec than anywhere else in Canada.
I’m glad for the few polite phrases of French that I knew before I got here, and people are very encouraging when I use them. Even so, they recognise my limitations and the people of the Eastern Townships are quite happy to switch to English in order to continue conversation.
I wonder if they recognise how much I love this place, even though it’s my first physical visit. I wonder if they sense my connection.
Whether they do or not, I am feeling it very strongly. Is it odd to feel that this place is my home in some way, or that I belong here because a piece of my heart lives here? In my mind, seeing these places and walking these streets is the most natural thing in the world.
I’m going to work on improving my French so that I can do better when I return.
Canton de Bedford.
I’m walking down the Rue Principale.
It’s a pretty town, in some ways quite rustic. Charming.
The lady in Boutique Micheline is very friendly, and we chat about the scarf I have chosen to buy.
I wander back down the street, past Cafe Rouge to Metro where I buy things for dinner. I think we got the one slightly grumpy cashier in the place. Everyone else is delightful.
I like Bedford and would quite happily come back.
The Rivière Richelieu is the first unfrozen river we have seen in days.
Steady, soaking, cold rain.
It takes its coldness from the ice.
That chill is unmistakeable. Inescapable. It burns.
It’s hard to breathe.
I suppose I was a fool to not expect that.
And so the rain continues: I wonder if it will ever stop.
What started as a surprise downpour has become an all-pervading bleakness that feels like it will never end.
I long for the sunshine; I long for its kiss, the warmth of its touch on my skin, its heat radiating into my soul.
But it has departed and all that remains is the misery of winter.
I am heading for warmer weather, but part of me will remain frozen in this moment.
I don’t believe that I can ever be the same again.
Even in the stark near-nakedness of winter, you are breathtakingly beautiful.
Today is bathed in sunshine.
There are still drifts of snow by the road and in the fields, thickest under the pines and cedars where the sunlight has not yet penetrated. If this weather keeps up, that won’t last too much longer. Canada might actually get the spring weather she has eagerly awaited for so long.
We’re driving on Route 401, heading for Ottawa.
Leaving the home and company of a wonderful friend is a sad thing to do, but great memories have been made and our friendship cemented.
My buddy was always going to be a friend for life, but now the adoption is formalised. He’s my brother.
An Aussie Maple Leaf, adrift on the wind... 