Northern Ontario in early autumn is a space of variegated leaves and red maples. We visited Haliburton and walked in the canopy on planks of hemlock suspended from wire, watched wolves in the Wolf Center and on our drive through Algonquin Park to Montréal saw moose and chipmunks and went for a long walk around a beaver pond where we heard an industrious beaver working on his dam but saw no sleek heads poke through the water except on other people’s cameras.
Montréal is another story — a magical city of snazzy cafés and balkan beatbox music in sweet bars with orange couches. The sounds of French spoken everywhere soothe my soul. Tomorrow, we’re going on a day jaunt to Québec City, the fortified town a couple of hours away and then tomorrow night, our last, I have booked us into a gorgeous room at l’Auberge du Vieux Port, an 1888 warehouse on the old port converted into a hotel. Then we fly to LA and I to Australia… and Doug will follow a month later.
I imagine work will be a frenzy when I return… I’m locking in this sense of peace and calm to carry it with me.