Made Killarney by midday. Passing familiar signs and rivers. When does north become North? When you see the blue heron overhead, legs arrowed in flight? Or when you pass a scarred section of Canadian shield with its gravel eddys. Or when you count four beaver huts villaging the roadside marsh.
It takes a long time to leave the house and then the city stretches and stretches to hold you in situ even father every time you venture out. Such a long untethering. Will we fray or bind together?
Posting in Blind River. Aiming for Lake Superior Provincial Park tonight. Thinking of Nigel. Just last night we were celebrating his 19th in the CN tower.
lakeflowsnorth 
Nice writing C and it’s a decent little website… looking forward to more adventures
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‘North’ is relative. Love that country. Love your writing. Look forward to more
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‘North’ is relative. Love that country. Love your writing. Look forward to more.
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So glad to hear from. Sorry I didn’t get to say adieu, bon voyage, safe flight, au revoir, or wish you safe travelling. Take good take of yourselves. Remember one cookie per day! Love, Mom.
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You are making the last sentence of your second paragraph so suspenseful!!!!! We must tune in next episode. Will Thelma and Louise still be riding together? Will one be in the trunk? Will one be riding gunshot on the roof? Looking forward to hearing more.
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Love the way you describe things, Catherine. Bon voyage!!
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