Walktober 2020

“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.”
Lauren DeStefano, Wither

It’s here!  One thing we can count on, Pandammit or not!  Walkober is what I’m talking about. Thank goodness for peeps like Robin who keep the good things happening, don’t you think?

Mother Nature decided to be most generous last weekend and I went out both days with my bestie, Julie. First time I am accompanied during Walktober and it was lovely. The result? Over 500 photos.  No, don’t worry, I won’t post them all here!  But oh… how to choose…

On Saturday we met up around 2:00 pm at the St. Bruno National Park.  There are miles of trails and there were quite a few people so we kept trying to take the paths less travelled, so to speak. We “done good”, I think.

We decided to search out some fungi, figuring there must surely be some, somewhere!  There were, indeed. Do not ask me to name a single one. I’ve zero clue.

I did not realise there are five lakes in this beautiful park.  We knew we wanted to make our way to the main one (in our minds, the only one) and tried to find a trail less populated without getting lost.  I’m assuming this lake was the main Seigneurial one! So beautiful and did not disappoint.

We found a lovely Salon de Thé that was open and were pretty sure would also have coffee, but if they didn’t, a nice hot tea would do.  They had the machinery necessary for us to each have a latte – would have been nice if it was hot and had more flavour but hey, it was something.  I do know that I would love to return post-pandemic to be able to sit for a spell.

Coffee in hand, we continued our walk.  We both wished we hadn’t missed the reds of the season. It’s amazing what one week does in terms of autumn colour.  The oranges were beautiful and we could see the yellows were truly taking over but when we saw red?  How could we not stop?  Though bright green and white also got our attention.

 

We headed back, passing by someone’s property, marvelling how people who lived in these areas were never outside to enjoy their own views.  Then again, when you have all sorts of people traipsing around your backyard, would you?  Once upon a time, those who lived here had found tranquillity. Now, they were smack-dab in the middle of a national park.  I might wait for after-hours myself, now that I think of it.

Have I lost you yet?  No?  Oh my goodness. You are all so kind.  That was day one.  Now, onto day two and the Parc National des Îles de Boucherville…

“The magic of autumn has seized the countryside; now that the sun isn’t ripening anything it shines for the sake of the golden age; for the sake of Eden; to please the moon for all I know.”
Elizabeth Coatsworth, Personal Geography: Almost an Autobiography

This time, we decided to get an earlier start. We didn’t stay long enough for the sunset the previous day and we couldn’t get to this park by sunrise, but still.  We didn’t want the same time frame.  We should have packed ourselves a lunch but that would have required either of us to be organised and honestly? It was Sunday. We have to be organised all week, let the weekend be more relaxed, eh?

We met, this time, at around 11:00?  Five little islands with 21 km (13 or so miles) or trails form this national park, it’s also a great place for kayaking, paddle boarding, picnicking, and you can even camp there – when life is normal, that is. Again, there were quite a few people. This is when I appreciate my time working on shifts. I could visit these areas during the week. Alas, those days are over. For now.  We set off, grabbing a map of the area.  We did take it out once to make sure we were going in the right direction and according to Jules, we were (I suck at reading maps.)  It was another spectacular day of golds and oranges with a few pops of red.  We were so hoping to see some wildlife – there are deers galore, but other than a frog, ducks, geese, a snake that slithered too fast to capture, and a few caterpillars – nuthin’. Sigh. But I have to say, it was pretty cool looking at my hometown from across the river. We had a perfect view of the old Ste. Famille Church.

It’s amazing how two areas, a mere twenty-minute-drive apart, felt so very different. There were so many textures to enjoy.

As we walked along, Julie reminisced about late summers spent working on her friend’s farm. (Actually, I also went to high school with Marielle – just didn’t hang around her!)  They were expropriated some time just after we graduated from high school and are now settled up the road from my childhood house. Julie was trying to visualise where it was exactly but we could not find any “remains”.  So we kept walking until we spotted an old barn and, without having to discuss it, started towards it, through a field that has been ploughed. How weird. Of course, once we crossed the uneven terrain to arrive at the said barn, we saw there was a sort of road that we could have taken. What’s the adventure in that? And what is so intriguing about old barns?

Once we were done exploring this old barn, we followed the “road” and it led us to three more abandoned buildings. One looked like a storage shed for, I’m not sure, grain for animals? It was very low to the ground. One looked like an atelier (workshop) of some sort and the main one might have been a stall for horses – I didn’t venture inside but there was a structure that looked like it might have been a well once, right beside it.

After taking a bazillion pictures, we slowly made our way back.  We ended up at a lookout point and found that as we watched the grasses sway like waves, and the few trees in the middle, it gave us a sort of African Serengeti Steppe vibe (okay, maybe we were both weird but you be the judge!

There is a golf course on one of the islands and the only way to get there is by ferry. How cool is that?

Our feet were feeling the two days’ worth of walking and we were glad to see the parking lot.  Such great company and we are planning on making this a regular thing.

I wasn’t planning on going on and on but it’s all Robin’s fault. She said go big for this year. So I did!  Hope it wasn’t overkill. 🙂

Heck, I’m plumb tuckered out from creating this ramble, so I’ll be taking a week off starting tomorrow – completely unplugging.  Please note, if I don’t get to any comments right away, don’t think I’m dissing you, I’ll take care of them upon my return.

Mindful(less?)ness

Free the space for nothingness

It was August 7th when David Kanigan suggested I write a post based on my response to his post “You Missed That…”  Here we are, the last day of August and I am finally writing it.  I did start composing last night but it took me so long to find David’s post because my computer decided to be slower than molasses in January that I abandoned the project in frustration and decided to watch the second half of “Chef’s Table with Jeong Kwan” because watching the first half the night before is what brought me back here in the first place.

So, here I am now.  My response to D.K.’s post was this:

Yes. Mindfulness is a state of being.
It’s funny. On Wednesday, while sitting in my canteen, for a “quiet moment” (i.e. no customers, everything stocked, nothing needing my attention) I was so aware of just how many sounds I am being bombarded with in that tiny space. The hum of the three fridges – each their own sound, the clicking of the hot plate, the whir of the A/C, the flapping of my protective plexiglass “window” every time a breeze came. It was both disconcerting and oddly soothing at the same time.

David’s response was:

You should write a post based on this comment. That’s beautiful.

Kiki seconded the motion and, after a chat on Messenger with Sawsan, I said I would.  Thank goodness I didn’t say when I would do it!

As I worked yesterday, I kept thinking of Jeong Kwan and her being present in the moment – giving herself completely with an open heart and love to whatever task she is doing.  I decided to try to be mindful (instead of incredibly bored) as I made the sandwich fillings:  weigh the meat, calculate the percentages of the add-ins needed as per the recipe such as mayo, sour cream, old-fashioned grain mustard, etc.; take out the food processor, wash and chop the celery, add to bowl sitting on scale, add each ingredient by weight, mix with spatula.  Then, process ham or chicken (or pass hard-boiled eggs through a cooling grid) and add to bowl. Remove my ring and go in with my hands (except for the eggs) to mix well as it is way way more efficient. Feel the cold ingredients and their textures as I lift and fold, almost in a kneading motion, scraping sides of bowl with the side of my hand to bring into the mix.  Let my mind remain empty as I do it, focussing solely on the task, a meditative state.  For me, this is the form of meditation that works for me – besides walking. Of course, today, of all days, I was disrupted by a client who scared the bejeezus out of me by calling out.  No matter. I was able to get back into that frame of mind after I got him his hot dog.

By being mindful, it somehow felt less monotonous; less brain-draining. It helped me give meaning to a simple, repetitive task that I do three times per day, twice per week.  Does this mean I love it? Hell no. Not even close.  What it has done is confirm that I definitely do not want to work in the food preparation business ever again.  I shall, however, not leave them hanging and finish my season. Even if it kills me. Slowly.  Is it mid-October yet?

Dishes done for the third time, vacuum-formed packs put away, I was able to relax between sporadic customers. It had rained non-stop on Tuesday so I was frankly surprised there were as many golfers as there were. The air was crisp; the wind, fierce, the grass certainly soggy, and yet there they were.  They truly are a special breed of fanatic.

I sat there, trying to read when the various hums and clicks got my attention and I realised this was the reason for this post in the first place!  So I set my timer to see just how often the two most annoying and loud items go off.  The vent, the air-conditioning, the small fridges each have their own humming sound that remains constant.  The hotplate starts an almost frenetic clicking sound that goes up to reach its crescendo then slows down until the clicks are more intermittent. The cycle takes 2:35:42 exactly – I timed it.  Twice.  The big-ass Foster fridge motor starts off with a thud and a shudder and this odd echoey-rattly sound before lowering into a loud hum. The cycle takes about 5:03:07.  I timed it twice but missed the start by about 5 seconds as my phone had turned off and frankly, I hear the damn thing all day, I was done focusing on it for this.  I have noticed one of the other fridges has its own sort of shuddering restart or whatever you want to call it but I didn’t bother with it.  I actually took this video two days after David’s post, thought I’d try to redo it and then decided meh. This’ll do to give you an idea.

I have never spent so much time alone and in my head, as I have since I started this job on June 18th. Yes, there are busy moments and lots of customers but they come and go quickly, in a rush to hit their first or back nine. It’s not like serving in the restaurant of the previous golf club I worked for where you get to know the customer’s names and favourite beers and create a rapport.  Sure, there are quite a few regulars, here:  Monsieur Pomme, who orders an apple-oatmeal muffin every single time – and says not a single word other than to order, or now, smile as I put his muffin on the counter before he asks; or Mr. Oxford (from whence he hails) who orders his coffee with four laits – pronounced lays (milks). There are friendly and not-so-much-so types and no one lingers.  That’s to be expected in a canteen or casse-croûte, as we call it.

Random view from my window to distract you from how long this post is

Employees come to get their lunches and snacks as well and some, a few only, take a moment to chit-chat. Other than that?  Me, myself and I.  And my head. And my thoughts.  And the incessant humming and clicking.  I tried putting the radio on to drown out some of it but, being under a cement terrace, the reception is not always without the grating scratchy sound of not quite being on the channel – you remember those? A radio with a dial that you have to adjust ‘just so’ to get your station? I know, I know, I should simply download some music on my phone but honestly? I don’t think of it.  Regardless, it’s not worth it, it just adds to the cacophony.

Somehow this post has not turned into what I thought it would. So since it was a reflective piece, I’ll leave you with a nice little reflection of the setting sun on my just rained-on street.

 

 

Searching For My Inner Artist – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday afternoon! It’s a gorgeous, not too hot and sticky day here in the Montreal area. So sorry for those of you in the stinkin’ hot States right now. Sending out good vibes that this heat abates soon. Till then, how about a little silly Friday Fictioneer story, hosted by our illustrious leader, who also supplied her own photo, Rochelle. Better yet, how’s about you add your own little 100-word story to go with? Yeah? Click on the frog below and add your link. Easy-peasy!

©Rochelle Wisoff(no-e)-Fields

Come paint with us!

Searching For My Inner Artist

What’s all this?

Searching for my inner artist. Figuring my father must have given me a smidgeon of his artistic genes.

You can’t even draw stickmen, why would you think you can paint?

Dunno. I feel this might be a medium I could play with. More abstract, yanno? Doesn’t have to be so precise and detailed.

That’s the case with all types of paints, by the way. And it’s not as easy as it looks.

I know I am no Rochelle, Monika or Louise, but can’t hurt to try?

Why not stick to photography? It IS an art form, too…

The Message – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #85

A tad late – okay, more than a tad – but Crispina is not a stickler for these things. She’s so generous, the prompts stay up forever so, should the mood strike whenever then we can still play.  I couldn’t find a matchy-matchy but when I started looking I thought, I dunno… maybe this can work. And so, here is an itty-bitty poem in pictures and words that I wanted to share yesterday but didn’t.  Here it is today!

 

The Message

 

Follow the path, she said.  It will be easy to find

Keep on looking at the fences made of wood

With something special used to bind

He searched and he searched, as best as he could

Suddenly there it was, in pink entwined

And he knew, it true; with him, she stood

 

Voilà… short and sweet at 52 words 😉

 

 

Weekend Writing Prompt #154 – Fabric

A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in the comments.  Thank you, Sammi for this great challenge!

 

April is a Fickle Month

 

Spring! Oh, beautiful Spring! You are here at last!

Flora is coming to life

Birds are singing and squirrels are frolicking

 

 

This April day filled with sunshine and blue skies

Fools us into thinking warm days are here

 

“En avril ne te découvre pas d’un fil”

goes the French proverb

Which means, literally

In April, do not remove a thread (of clothing)

 

 

Much as we wish to divest ourselves

of our many layers

Replace woollen fabrics with cotton

Heavy coats with light sweaters

 

We should beware

“Le fond de l’air est frais”

Translated literally as

“The bottom of the air is cool”

 

 

What? That makes no sense!

But it does.

That initial warmth you feel

Has a bite to it that sneaks in

 

Reminding you, April is a fickle month

 

 

 

Still Life – Friday Fictioneers

Welcome, Readers!  It is Wednesday and time to get away from the news for a few minutes. Yep, this week, Rochelle has challenged us with Jeff Arnold’s lovely image. One that she, by the way, turned into a beautiful painting.  Should you care to add your own 100-word story inspired by this image, click on the frog below and add your link. Easy peasy!  Wanna know the rules? Click on Rochelle’s name and get ’em while they’re hot!

Still Life

She placed her “Writer’s Life” items just so, hoping to create a lovely still life to photograph. Two of her three loves were photography and writing; cooking was the third. Why the hell did she place both a cup of coffee and a glass of wine? Right, silly.  Coffee for the morning writing session; wine for the afternoon-to-evening one.  Her subconscious mind seemed to understand all the elements.  She took her pictures then sat down at the desk, reaching for the glass of wine as she mulled over her life.  Could she make a living by combining her three loves?

 

Rainbows, Smiles and Sunday Everyday

My last day of quarantine was yesterday. Thank goodness because, much as I am quite creative in the kitchen, I was starting to worry that things would turn drab as I was running low on pretty much everything.  You see, my family and I were fortunate to go on a cruise together. (Post about it to follow soon as I kinda got distracted on my return, for some reason.)  Yes, there was talk but it was faint and precautions were taken upon boarding and we sanitized everywhere we went so we felt pretty outside of the situation. Till we hit New York. Waiting for our plane the drone overhead was relentless as were all the TV screens.  We thought, shit… what the eff is going on?

Took it easy on Tuesday (11th) and worked Wednesday through Friday, receiving the stink-eye from a couple of the cooks.  Sorry, mates. We were not told to self-quarantine.  Until we were.  On Saturday, my boss called me to ask me to stay home just as I was texting him to say I had to stay home for two weeks from the arrival date, meaning, until the 23rd. All good.

I try to go out daily with Zeke for a walk, choosing less populated streets of which there are many.  Distances are kept and every “hello” is not only received but returned with a smile, to boot.  No one tries to get in ayone else’s space and that is fabulous. There are a few “rainbows in windows” campaigns going on and I have seen the proof. It is precious and beautiful to see. Most are handmade and even if not, who cares? It’s a lovely way of uniting us.

Speaking of uniting, it’s a mixture of disconcerting and heartwarming to see all the cars parked in the driveways, making every day seem like a Sunday, with people walking about, cycling, playing hockey (I had to assume this was a family who lives together).  You can see the distance between groups or individuals – a good sign that rules are being respected.

This last image was taken shortly before the ambulance arrived. You can see a person sitting on the ground with one helping her while others look like they want to go close to help (or snoop) but don’t dare – a good thing at this time.  I hope it was nothing serious.

In some places, I have finally seen signs of spring flowers working their way out of the frozen ground!  Not at my house just yet, but still. And, I’m surprised this photo turned out as it was so bright outside, I could not see a darn thing!

Speaking of every day being like a Sunday, that includes Sunday meals en famille, of which we have not been able to partake in a dog’s age because we all work different shifts and most of the time are at work when it should be suppertime. Sundays especially.  Soooo… with my “Empty the fride/freezer/pantry” campaign, I was doing a bang-up job…

Which brings me back to my opening paragraph.  Now that I was allowed to go shop, I did.  All in one fell swoop as I do not want to have to go out and expose myself more than necessary until it is necessary.  I was pleased to see that Costco had organised the lines – and were counting how many they let in: one goes out, one allowed in, keeping the numbers at, well, I don’t know how many, but judging by the space in there, it was quite low.  However, as you can see below, the peeps in front of me were certainly NOT keeping six feet between them.  I did and let the guy behind me know when he was in my bubble.

Got my goods and the staff did no bagging so I figured, no big whup, once I get to my car, I’ll do it there.  However. DISASTER! My case of beer was on the cat food bag and, unbenownst to me, and slipped forward until CRASH! It fell to its side and made like the Caesar’s Palace Fountain Show only sans lights and music!  I got a good beer shower as I righted the damn thing and waited as it did its thing. A kind samaritan gave me a half roll of paper towels and said he hoped I was thirsty. Um… These cans are 500 ml (17 oz) each!  Even if all six, yes, SIX, of them emptied half-way, that represents 1.5 l (3 pints) of beer – Not saying I couldn’t if push came to shove but yanno… it was a “bit” much and plus, they were room temp. So. I put a couple in the fridge and drank them – they were flat by then. Blech. and the rest is put aside for more beer bread…

Victims, a sad state of affairs.

After the horror of putting all my stuff away into the car, I had two more stops to make.  Some fruit and herbs and stuff that I can’t get at Costo. And what up, peeps? Has everyone decided to bake their own bread?  Not an ounce of flour to be found at either store I went to. And fuggedabout yeast… Yep. Looks like I’ll be making more beer bread should I run out of the store bought one.

The snow started to fall ever so lightly during my last stop.  The boys helped me empty my car and put away the groceries. By then, forget about cooking. I was spent and it became leftover time. And we had a variety (see above).

I was settled into an evening of watching “Lion” when I got a text from Linda: “Yo, Outside your window.”  Took a peak and waved, then opened the door, shouted for her to hang on, I’d get redressed and join her – yes, yes, six feet apart – with Zeke.  It was a winter wonderland!

Neither of us was upset with the snowfall. We know that March snows never last.  This was just about the prettiest snowfall we had all winter!  Of course, it’s officially Spring, so that must be it.

Nothing lasts forever…

 

 

 

2019 Attitude of Gratitude Challenge

Funny how things work, sometimes.  I can’t remember if it was Thursday or Friday (2nd or 3rd of January) when I thought to myself: I wonder if Dawn is doing her Attitude of Gratitude thing this year. Not two days later (or three) what do I get in my inbox but Dawn’s post! Serendipity at its best. Let’s just say that if she hadn’t, I would have been sad and maybe, just maybe, I would have done my own anyway. It’s kinda nice to be part of something that already exists, dontcha think?

The rules are really simple.  Set the timer for 15 minutes and start listing – very stream of consciousness, this thing.  I will do exactly that by listing whatever pops into my head and at the end, shall return to my list and clean up typos, remove duplicates or even maybe cheat by adding more deets to the items, because, well, if I stop to write all the whys, then my list will be shorter.  Then again, this isn’t a contest so, does it matter just how many I have? Maybe cheating won’t even be necessary!  Okay, Rogerson, just shut up and write already.

The following are the things for which I am grateful or simply bring me joy and peace:

  1. B – for what you give and what you agree to receive;
  2. My sisters – no matter what’s what, they will be there
  3. Mom – same thing, without you, I’d not be here
  4. Dad – no longer here, you still influence some of my decisions
  5. Mick – no matter that you’ve been gone five years, you are still a huge presence, not to mention a great muse for my writing
  6. Writing – the ability to share what I want to say and have people receive it
  7. Reading – we learn so much about life, the world when we open ourselves to reading
  8. Friday Fictioneers and Rochelle in particular for being the first challenge that opened me up to writing more
  9. Blogosphere – for introducing me to so many fantastic writers
  10. Friends made over the blogosphere – it’s amazing how close we can become, like you, Sawsan, now a flesh and blood friend
  11. Julie, Giselle, Linda, Cathy – my girlfriends who are there to drink, eat and be merry with
  12. My guy friends – who keep me laughing
  13. My boys – for keeping me real – whether I like it or not
  14. The scent of petrichor in the summer
  15. The sound of rain on a window when lying in bed
  16. Being able to sit outside on a covered porch when it rains
  17. Big fluffy snow in winter, especially on Christmas Day
  18. Zeke – for giving me a reason to get out and enjoy the fresh air
  19. Standing outside, and realising all is silent and being in the moment
  20. Coffee!
  21. Wine (and beer or spirits 😉 )!
  22. The sound of the wind in the marcescent leaves
  23. My house – it keeps me safe from the elements
  24. My health – it might have blips from colds but otherwise, I’m healthy
  25. DK – for introducing me to soooo many books and for being you, who shares such beautiful things
  26. My laptop – which keeps me connected to so many people
  27. Hang Outs – which allows me to chat with my bestie face-to-face
  28. Warm thick socks in the winter
  29. Dresses in the summer
  30. My capacity (capability?) to smile through the tough stuff
  31. My ability to love freely
  32. Photography – a way to capture everything that grabs my attention
  33. Sunsets
  34. Being by the water – lake, river, ocean
  35. Travel – introducing me to cultures and broadening my horizons
  36. Cooking – not only to nourish but also to show my creativity
  37. Discovering my creativity, which I was so sure I didn’t have till it was pointed out to me
  38. Movies – being able to escape into another world for a couple of hours
  39. Merril – for introducing me to poetry and inspiring me to keep trying it
  40. Frank – because you introduced me to sooo many fabulous bloggers and your concerts were the best that I was honoured to act as your Maître D’ and because I want you to know that I am going to miss you – blogging. I shall hound you elsewhere 😉
  41. Light to see
  42. Dark to rest
  43. Love, in general – amorous or friendly
  44. Sex and the joy of sharing intimacy
  45. My eyes – so I can appreciate what is out there
  46. My ears – listening to the sounds around me, music, my loved ones’ voices
  47. My limbs – though they sometimes let me know they need more limbering
  48. My sense of humour – which helps keep me out of trouble
  49. My ability to connect with people of all stations
  50. My intellect – which permits me to have proper conversations on all sorts of things
  51. My curiosity – which keeps me learning always
  52. My snarkiness, which keeps me from not being taken seriously
  53. To you authors who trusted me with your works and allowed me to be a beta reader – I am beyond chuffed

Artistic License – Crimson’s Creative Challenge #55

Alrighty then… Over time, this challenge has come to mean a way for me to get out some old (or not so old) photos and try to match them to Crispina‘s.  Then write a story to go with.  This one didn’t quite work out for me.  However, I have taken artistic license and since there are no rules besides not going past 150 words… A little silly never hurt anyone, right?

Artistic License

Didja get the plan I gave ya?

I shore did.

And, you think you are following it?

I shore am.

Really? Do you see a house in my picture?

No, but—

Do you see a fence in my picture?

No, but those posts look like an unfinished—

Do you think you are still following the plan?

Well, no. BUT.  I thought I’d use a little artistic license.

We cannot do our ritual in the place you have chosen.

Why not?

First off, the circle is unfinished.

I know, I was going to get to that before you arrived.

And that’s not how it’s done. It needs to have more of ‘henge’ feeling so not a fence, just the posts.

But this looks rustic, no?

Yeah, it’s lovely for a home.

I thought it rather nice.

Still, we can’t do our ritual here.

Why not?

We’ll wake the neighbours!

 

Once Upon a November Dreary…

What is it about November in the northern hemisphere above the, say, the 35th parallel north, that is so drab and dreary?

Just a touch of colour

Tell you what. The trees are bare, the snow is not yet arrived to brighten up the place (or what little of it there may be is little and dirty), it rains, we set back the clock an hour (coz we all love to have it dark at 4:00 pm)… need I say more?  My grandmother used to get so depressed during this month because there was nothing and no visitors found the need to visit “up north” as we used to call the two-hour drive to her place. In Canada, we celebrate Thanksgiving in October. Then the next holiday is Christmas. So, November? Blahsville.

Today was the perfect day to represent the November of which I speak. I drove my mother and her partner up to Hawkesbury to meet with my aunt who would take them the rest of the way. It was drizzling and grey all the way until we hit the Ontario border. The sun was trying desperately to burn through the grey and finally did kinda-sorta peep through, almost necessitating the slipping on of the shades. Almost.

After a teen burger at A&W, I said goodbye to the folks.  I stopped to gas up, picked up the worst coffee in the world and made my way back home. Not smart to leave there after 2:00 pm as it meant I would arrive back in the Montreal area after 3:00 pm, or primetime traffic hour.

I swear, as soon as I crossed the border back into Quebec, the grey came back and the drizzle started up again. Really? Mother Nature pissed of at this part of Quebec, or something?

No matter. I was smart enough to take another way home, thereby avoiding the city completely. Why I hadn’t thought of it on my way up is beyond me.  Mind you, traffic was endurable so…

As I was about twenty minutes from home, I could see across the highway to the Saint Lawrence River and the monotone colour made me think of this here post. So I took an exit that I thought would bring me one place but did not.  It did, however, bring me to another spot that was perfect.  I parked the car and made my way across an apartment building’s yard to the water’s edge and snapped a few pics.

How nice that as I was snapping these pictures, the drizzle turned to a light snow. Maybe November isn’t all that bad…