“Sun., Aug. 26. Pat arrived early and enjoyed an ice cream w out me!!”
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CHAPTER SIX - Sunday, Sunday (PT 2)
I enjoyed sunny skies and peaceful outings during my brief stay in Port Bruce recently. If I’d been carrying whiskey and gunpowder around - like Sir William Johnson did 251 years earlier, I’d have fired off my own Royal Salute to the weather and quaint, quirky surroundings.
(re Sir William: He visited Port Bruce over two and a half centuries ago by boat and is “known to Canadians for being the husband of Molly Brant, brother-in-law to Mohawk Chief, Joseph Brant and ancestor of poetess Emily Pauline Johnson” - online history)
Early in the morning I read several pages from a history book while sipping coffee at The Pier diner and watched gulls and cormorants traverse a clear blue sky. While doing so I think I lived up to a favourite quote of mine about travelling: ‘The less you spend the more you enjoy, the more authentic the experience it is, the more profound, the more exciting, the more unexpected’. (A Sense of Place by M. Shapiro)
Later, back at the ranch, I ate a leisurely and authentic breakfast of hot oatmeal and toast, then returned to the beach to read a book, and bob in the water whenever I felt the need to cool off... even unexpectedly. All the while I kept one eye on my watch because my wife Pat planned to join me at 2 p.m., and we’d planned to meet at the Sand Kastle restaurant situated 100 yards from where my chair sat in the shade of two scrubby trees.
Unfortunately Pat arrived 20 minutes early, while I was again back at the campsite eating a highly nutritious lunch, i.e., a packet of Mr. Noodle soup minus half the contents of the heavily salted ‘flavour pouch’. (For those that don’t know, I think the beef flavour pouch is 90 per cent salt and 10 per cent mystery ingredient, and was put together deep inside a chemical factory by a guy in a grease-stained smock who has never stepped foot on an actual cattle farm. And now you know).
When we finally connected at the appointed hour my wife informed me that instead of looking for me she visited the Sand Kastle ice cream counter. It hardly seemed fair at the time (“You didn’t think that I’d like two scoops of New York cheese cake?”), but because she later bought supper and carried half my gear home in the car on her return trip home, I submitted no formal complaint.
Once we were settled in the shade of my two scrubby trees she asked, “So, how was your day?”
I shared a few words - while admiring the clear blue sky - about my terribly hectic schedule and mentioned that cormorants might be returning soon from wherever they spend their daytime hours.
Photo link to Gavan Watson
“So we should be on the look out,” I said.
She informed me that cormorants can be a bit of a nuisance, which made me wonder 'in what way', because I knew they were good fishermen and had a distinct flying style, but that was about it.
I have since read the following: In some Ontario parks, Parks Canada officials shoot cormorants to stem the loss of trees. Wildlife defence groups argue about a hierarchy of values in nature: Are trees and the forest canopy more worthy than a colony of cormorants? These widely unloved, fish-eating migratory birds are ruthless nest builders. With their hook-tipped bills, they strip tree branches; their guano becomes a hyper fertilizer, wrecking the chemistry of the soil. Trees die three to 10 years after the birds build their nests. (www.thestar.comhttp://www.thestar.com/news/gta/article/636703--30-000-cormorants-destroying-lakeside-park)
So, my wife was right. And why should I have been surprised? She’s a genius. As well, I thanked her several times the next day - in my mind and in person once I got home - because my bike trailer felt much lighter while hauling it back to London and my right leg didn’t cramp up like it did on ‘day one’ of my bicycle trip.
My journal says ‘we said our goodbyes after burger and fries’ and reveals that ‘I was reading D-Day again in lovely downtown PB by 5:30 - 6:00 p.m.’ I found the final chapters engrossing and felt glad I’d taken it with me over lighter fare.
My notes for the day conclude with the following: ‘Lovely night, as evidenced in photos of turbines and quiet road side scenes.’
I can only recall that I ended the day with a cup of tea, a few thoughts about the next day’s (predicted) rainy weather and another deep sleep.
[Photos, except of cormorants, by G.Harrison]
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Please click here to read CHAPTER SIX (PT 1) of ‘Discovering the World’
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