A Good Day
I finally decided to take out my bicycle for the first time this year. It was a cloudy, warm, day but I felt the need to move. Those who know me know this does not happen often.
I packed my phone, keys, bank card so I could pick up a few groceries on the way back, and set off. My goal this year is to bike the entire length of the Long Sault Parkway. And back. Without killing myself. (The Parkway is a series of 11 islands that were left when the St Lawrence Seaway was formed back in 1959. The islands were high ground when the area was flooded. It is now parkland and camping areas and lovely wildlife areas.) After a false start when my bike chain slipped and jammed, I sailed off towards the Parkway, mere minutes from home.
Crossing the first bridge, I found countless Common Terns, flitting and darting about, calling to each other, occasionally diving for a bit to eat. Passing by wooded areas, multitudes of birds sang out as I breathed in the cool, woodsy, scents. I realized that being out in the middle of the day, during the week, early in the summer, is a great time. There are few people on the road and, aside from the drone of the bullfrogs, the sound of ducks and geese and the birds all around, all is quiet. A few squirrels glanced up as I passed, then carried on about their business.
After a while, my mind started to wander. As I sweated and puffed and strained my way along an incline (not to be confused with an actual hill), I recalled my youth when, some 45+ years ago I would hop on my bike and head off to my best friend's house, several miles away, through busy Montréal streets, breathing in diesel and gas, eagerly anticipating an afternoon of watching Skinny Mini Miller or Eduouard Carpentier (Roller Derby and wrestling) - programs my parents would never let me watch at home. I'd barely break a sweat. My throbbing knee, pounding heart, and burning lungs were trying hard to tell me I was now not quite as young as I used to be.
As I made it to my goal of the day, it started to spit a bit - as good an excuse as any to turn around and head back. I stopped for a few minutes and sat on a boulder and sipped a bit of water. And breathed. I constantly marvel at how incredibly beautiful it is out here. I come out here a lot. P and I drive through as early in the spring as possible to hear the peepers. They are so loud at times it is almost deafening. We hike along the trail with the dogs - only 2 now but at one time there were 5. We kayak here, in and out of the coves, searching out herons, egrets, sandpipers, and other waterfowl. We take the dogs swimming along here, especially when it is too hot for them to run along the paths by the river. The Spaniels, especially, love swimming. I am always so incredibly grateful to have settled in this area, to have found this little corner of paradise and calm.
I cross the road and make my way back. Along the way I spot a deer. I've surprised her and she darts back into the woods even though I've stopped a fair distance from her. Continuing, I pause at The Lodge - a rather large beaver lodge beside a bridge - to see if there is any action. The river is quite low (the river levels are managed by the Seaway Commission) and I am not sure The Lodge is actually inhabited any longer. This day appears quiet. No beaver sightings here.
Back across the entry bridge and off onto the bike path, through cool woods and out along the river. Coming up to the tall grasses I spot geese, looking much like periscopes, heads turning this way and that. One sentry is on the path and slowly waddles out of my way as I bike past. No one seems terribly concerned by my presence. This is a marked contrast to my ride a few years ago when I happened across a flock of geese along the path who seemed quite determined to maul me. I swing off the path onto a gravel path and make my way to the road that will take me to the store and, finally, home.
My story could end here but it doesn't. Driving off to the next village with the dogs, I happened across a turtle - a painted turtle - crossing the highway. I pulled over, backed up, and got out of the car to help it cross the road. A van was coming right for it. I waved my arms to get the van to move over; the van came to a full stop. In the middle of the road. The driver - a woman - signaled at me to carry on and move the turtle. I carried the little one across the road and into the grass. I waited till it started to make its way further into the grass before I left. A police officer pulled over to check on me during this. I told her what I'd been doing - she thanked me - I thanked her - we went our separate ways.
It was, indeed, a good day.
