Road Trip

Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.

Jack Kerouac, American poet and novelist (1922-1969)

My 2018 road trip began with broad unbounded horizons and ribbons of country highways lined with golden fields of canola.

For several days I was treated to a warm farm welcome accompanied by delicious farm fresh hospitality featuring eggs that tasted like eggs and lamb that I would venture is the best in the world.

My adopted family took me for a glorious day at the beach complete with a barbeque picnic and a game of bocce (for which I turned out to be a natural).

My rented VW Jetta then took me westward on the Yellowhead Highway to a special place that has offered me a soul-restoring refuge over the years (read decades).

I lose myself in the divinity of nature. The world beneath the lake’s surface mesmerizes me while the grandeur of the ever-changing cloudscapes fill me with awe.

And those heavens rumbled during my away time. On the first night, following a dramatic simultaneous strike of lighting and thunder, I fell asleep to the sound of a waterfall on the cabin’s tin roof. The following afternoon they hurled hail missiles that were quickly spent so that the skies shone glistening rays onto the lake’s rippled surface.

During a beautifully sunny afternoon, a canoe trip revealed multiple micro worlds along the lake.

Surely Monet would appreciate the damselfly among the waterlilies as much as I.

There is nothing like the call of the loon to calm the soul.

From the bow I peered into the watery worlds, fascinated by the textures of life and detritus.The ever evolving life cycle goes on and on and there is beauty in all of it.

My road trip continues westward today – into the mighty mountains near Jasper. Stay tuned. :-)