Saving the Best for Last
Today was my last full day here in PEI, and arguably the best. I left the national park a day ahead of schedule, and spent my time exploring and going wherever whim led me.
The day started with a tranquil morning hike through old farm fields, woodlands, a fresh water wetland, and dunes that swept out to the ocean. As I came through the wetland, I encountered many birds, including several great blue herons which emerged one by one, flapping their wide grey-blue wings, as they heard me approach. One didn’t notice me until I was practically on top of it, at which point we both startled each other. I guess my human presence hassled their buzz. I can’t say I blame them. I usually feel that my buzz has been hassled when there are other people around, especially when I’m out enjoying the serenity of nature.
I continued to poke along through my day, randomly driving down a dirt road, which led to a deserted beach – the perfect place to stop and have lunch, catch up on a little reading, and go for a swim.
Towards the mid to late afternoon, it started to cloud over, threatening to rain. I figured if I was going to get wet, I might as well be out on the water, so I found a little inlet (also down a random dirt road) to go paddling in. The marsh grasses popped vibrantly against the dark clouds, and as I paddled out into the channel, something white and partly black caught my eye. I thought it might be a washed up buoy, but I wondered, maybe, just maybe could it be a bald eagle?
I paddled closer, as noiselessly as I could. When I was about 30 feet away, I still couldn’t make out what it was (if only I had my glasses!), but I thought I saw it moving. Suddenly, with a great flapping of wings, a bald eagle arose from the marsh, flashing its crisp white belly as it winged effortless to a nearby tree. What a sight!
As my day’s adventures continued, I found myself setting up my tent in the cooling mist of a light rain, climbing to the top of a light house, and sitting by the ocean shucking oysters in the golden evening light. And now, as I sit wrapped in a blanket on the satin sand, I gaze out at the pewter water, watching with a light heart as it gurgles playfully on the shore. The sky is cloaked with violet and rose, and a perfect half moon glows mystically in the damp night air.
All in all, it’s a perfect end to a perfect day.
It’s nighttime here at my campsite in Maine, and I am exhausted from a long day of driving.
I left PEI yesterday afternoon, just as the rain began to fall. Good timing, I guess! Yet, despite the gloomy weather, I still felt that I had to pry myself away. Even though my stay was short, I really fell in love with that gentle island. I will miss the soft red earth, the deep green fields of potatoes speckled with creamy blossoms, and the gilded fields of hay where giant spools of distilled sunshine sit wrapped in tightly spiraled bundles. I will miss the meadows of wildflowers in their blissful shades of yellow, ivory, purple, and blue, fringed with the dark green of feathery spruces. I’ll miss the open sky, and the soft sound of the wind and water.
Last night, I stayed in Bay of Fundy National Park. When I awoke this morning, I went for a hike, a paddle, and a swim before hitting the road. As lovely as it was, I felt that my efforts were a bit half-hearted. I guess I left the other half of my heart in Prince Edward Island, but I’m sure it will catch up to me soon.
Tomorrow I will head home. I have mixed feelings about this development. It will be good to have the comforts of home once again, but I dread facing the responsibilities of my life. I guess that’s normal.
At any rate, I’ve had a really amazing trip, so I can’t complain. As I reflect back on what I wanted to get out of this trip, I would say it was an overwhelming success. In fact, I got something else out of it that was probably the best thing of all – a chance for my brain to empty out. What a blessing!
And now I’m off to all the blessings that await me at home!