Ha, I lied, there are no photographs in this post. All the most beautiful things I’ve seen, all the significant moments I want to record, they didn’t happen with my camera in hand. I was in motion, and I didn’t want to stop. Some I’ve already written about… here are the rest, but you’ll just have to imagine them, and I’ll just have to remember…

  • Driving between close close close vertical rock walls at Rogers Pass,
  • The Kicking Horse River and its miky green braids,
  • Through the toothy Rockies, literally like being a piece of tartar in the mouth of a planet-sized colossus,
  • Spiral tunnels and animal overpasses,
  • Orange setting-sunlight on the fields east of Calgary,
  • Pre-teens playing giant chess in Medicine Hat,
  • Hills dotted with hay marshmallows in Saskatchewan, some lying out of place in the median… pushed there by bored teens?
  • Fields of giant insect robots and shiny red martian rovers for sale in Swift River,
  • Manitoba, finally taught me how beautiful copses are. Not corpses, copses! As in “a copse of trees”,
  • Manitoba was also the land of a thousand lovely little white butterflies, often in couples that I would watch flirting and flitting and chasing each other right into the grill of my Death Van,
  • Ontario, perfect little lakes exactly like all those Group of Seven paintings,
  • Tallest pulp mill I’ve ever seen in Dryden ON… twenty stories? With monster smokestacks on top,
  • Sudbury: shock and awe of the smokestacks (one of which was the tallest freestanding structure in Canada until 1975; now only the CN Tower is taller), and the weird beauty of the water tank,
  • Swimming in an apartment tower rooftop pool in downtown Toronto, dubstep and cigarettes with my dearies Danielle and Nadia, Sarah, Francisco,
  • Cheese, how I love you! Cheese and more cheese in Montreal… chantrelles and pork roast too, a beautiful meal with Shirley and her friends Evan and Joanne,
  • The mouth of the St. Laurence, choppy and storm-dark despite the perfect sunny blue sky above,
  • Nearly driving off the road, mesmerized by fields of undulating and thrashing rushes,
  • A three-quarter moon, pumpkin orange and enormous over a dark stretch of New Brunswick highway,
  • The skip in my pulse and the lurch in my tummy as I rolled into Nove Scotia and realized that this strange new province was now my own,
  • The stranger who phoned his brother-in-law to find out the best route for me to take to a swimmable beach, having overheard me tell the gas station attendant that the first thing I wanted to do was jump in the atlantic ocean,
  • Peggy’s Cove, teeny and insanely adorable (but genuine) little fishing village… dusk by the time I got into the water behind a little seafood restaurant, cautious after a young local told me to watch my toes for crabs. After this final day of hot sticky driving the water was clear, cool, salty, and perfect.
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