Much nicer day for travel today, and much fun was had by all.
Yet crossing the border after our brief stint in the US somehow felt like a homecoming. Sure, familiar highway signage and conventions were part of it, but there was also an subtle layer of unease that was not noticed until it vanished as we passed through the customs gate in our homeland.
Perhaps it was just that sense of 'almost'. I found myself watching the scenery along the way, all breathtakingly beautiful, and noticing time after time how similar it was to so many places in Canada. Similar, but not quite. These hills almost look like the ones from... These farms almost look like the ones from... This river almost looks like... Even the woods in Maine were so close to the woods at home. But subtly different. Not quite the same mix of trees and ground cover. Signs of not quite the same forestry practices.
But almost...
Of course, New Brunswick is different from the little part of Canada that we call home too. Yet as we drove Highway 1 along the coast from St. Stephen to Saint John during that golden hour before sunset, it all felt so right.
As we rounded Spruce Lake the sun shot between the low clouds above the rollicking hills, haze in the middle distance silhouetting the impressionistic outlines of the spruce forests, rough islands painted on the bronze surface of the lake, and it felt good to be home.
No comments:
Post a Comment