Random Access

I may be in Mississauga today in body but my soul is still on a trail in Prince Edward Island National Park, ignoring the mosquitoes that are breakfasting on the back of my neck — field glasses trained on the beautiful gray-blue head and the trailing black necklace of the Mourning Warbler. Too bad the batteries in my ... ppdriuitiisoxxzazyying camera aren’t working.
Oh well, I guess there are a few small problems, even in paradise.
Just back from three lovely weeks of vacation in which, you will be shocked to know, I did not think about handicapping the Ward 10 council race for even one fleeting second.
Returning from vacation is a disorienting experience in which the mind refuses to accept, for as long as humanly possible, that the pleasures of sun and slow suppers, the extended cocktail hour, sinful desserts, the best fruit and vegetables of the season and the joy of reading for its own sake were but a brief reverie.
A week at a cottage within a few minutes’ walk of the red beaches on the northern coast of PEI creates an indelible impression of beauty and calm.
As my wife Janice put it, over the crest of every hill another postcard was waiting to unfold before your eyes. She took to calling the place the Shire, in reference to the idyllic home of the Hobbits in Lord of the Rings.
Our map called it the Gentle Island and we certainly found it so, although one suspects that it may not seem so peaceful in the teeth of a winter gale off the ocean. The place was immaculate and, although filled with tourist attractions, generally maintains its pastoral charm. Either PEI has an armed corps of paint police or Islanders have an innate sense of their own architectural traditions which they wish to uphold.
The only real tendency to the tawdry we saw was in Cavendish, with the hawking of the Anne of Green Gables legend. If pumping children’s stories about a fiery island girl is the closest you get to garish, you’re doing all right.
Being a bit of a birder, our location was ideal, as more than 300 species of birds can be seen in PEI National Park. There were many more Great Blue Heron than American robins and I saw at least as many foxes (who make dens in the sand dunes) as dogs.
Early one morning on a solitary trail that I kindly shared with a million mosquitoes, I found the bubbling springs for which the trail is named. They were occupied by a pair of American Black Ducks who were thoroughly enjoying their morning sauna before being rudely interrupted.
Know exactly how they feel. Was just starting to relax myself and get the feel of sea in my soul and red dirt on my shirt when this work-for-a-living thing reared its ugly head again.
Wake me up when reality is over.