"And Oh Canada to you too!"

I always forget how much I genuinely like being in Canada, between visits. With the exception of Quebec, which I used to detest being forced to drive through on my way to Ottawa, I really adore Canada. British Columbia, Toronto, Calgary, Thunder Bay, Ottawa, London - every one of them inspires me to pack up and move up there. On our latest jaunt up North to retrieve my mother from her stay at a relative's, I again noticed that once you cross the border, there is nothing but mature trees, and moose, if the signs are to be believed, for over an hour. The colours are starting to change and although we were a bit early for leaf peeping, this year promises to have a lovely display of Fall foliage.

10 minutes after you cross back to this state, you hit a small almost-ghost town. It has one gas station, the yard of which is littered with relics of dead automobiles. An engine sits at the far side of the parking lot, quietly decaying into a rusty oblivion. It's sat in that exact same spot as long as I've been alive. There's a small diner in the town, a typical greasy spoon with the grill right behind the counter. I haven't stopped there since I was a small child, because everything is cooked on the same grill, and that makes everything on their meager menu out of bounds for my digestion. The diner has the same curtains it had when I was a child. I noticed that as we drove by.

The friend who chauffered my northward trek hasn't been that far north since she was a child either. We're going to have to head up there again sometime very soon, before it's too cold to enjoy. Sometime when there aren't anxious relatives on either side of the journey.

I'll return you to your regularly scheduled babbling tomorrow.
-Peregrine