I am a nomad and adventurer. I used to travel for work now I travel for curiosity and fun. I started this blog when my husband of 21 years, Jim died of cancer on his 60th birthday. I started it because I wanted to have an easy way for my friends and family to follow me as I started a new adventure living in a small B class RV. I have a delightful little Roadtrek that I live in full time. It continues to be quite an adventure.
Eleven years but who is counting? I guess I am. Eleven years ago yesterday Jim, my husband died. Eleven years is sometimes a long time and sometimes it is yesterday.
Morning on the Lake
Yesterday morning I awoke on the shores of Lake of the Ozarks, took my coffee to the water’s edge, and watched a stunning fall morning unfold. This is my reflecting time. I ponder and wonder at the mystery of it all.
Yesterday was a hard day for me, physically. I was exhausted. It wasn’t a normal exhaustion, it was bone-wearying. I could hardly move from my rig to the picnic table. I had all these plans for yesterday. The only thing I accomplished was a languid rambling walk, followed by a nap. I never feel like this, Never. Then I realized grief had shown up once again in my life. It is always in the background somewhere but yesterday it said hello and popped up into the foreground of that moment of my life. If I couldn’t move then I decided not to move. I read and napped and gave myself permission to just be.
I have had six good friends die within the past eight months. That is a lot. I think the grieving I feel for their loss and the loss of Jim made me give up and accept that yesterday I could not be a superhero and I needed to give in to this and love myself. And so I did.
Grief is still a mystery to me. It appears that it is something that will never go away. It just continues to shift and move and mold to the moment. I am learning that it is important to put grief in its appropriate place in my life. Like fear, I wonder if I can make grief my ally. What if I can make this feeling and emotion help me move forward. What if I let grief guide me to a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me and give me guidance on how to support and love others.
When I feel grief to the intensity I did yesterday, a full-body type of grief, I am in the moment, not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. It is one of the things I remember most about the last days of Jim’s life. He was certainly in the moment and so was I. There was nothing beyond each moment for both of us. It was intensely emotional and heart felt. It almost felt like a blessing to be in its presence.
Janet & Jim in Peru
Today I am back on the road. I have about two weeks until I arrive in San Diego. It is time for my annual check-ups. It is time to visit with friends. Today it is Oklahoma, tomorrow it will probably still be Oklahoma. These are big states. I am enjoying the fall foliage.
Today I am thankful for recognizing grief as a teacher. Today I am thankful for giving myself a break.
My RV is my house. When things go wrong with any part of it I need to get it fixed just like any “Sticks & Bricks” homeowner does. The frustrating part is trying to find someone to fix it.
On this trip, my macerator hose developed a pinpoint hole leak. What is a macerator hose? It is what drains my black and gray water tanks. It is my sewage line to the outside world. Thanks to a good friend, Campskunk, I repaired it, knowing that I would need to replace the hose at some point. The repair was a temporary fix.
I plan to visit with family in Columbus, Ohio so I thought I would get it fixed there. I called three different service centers and asked if they could replace the hose. All three gave me roundabout answers that meant no. No, we don’t deal with macerator hoses. No, we don’t work on Roadtreks or vans. A Macerator hose, what is that? No, I don’t know any service centers in the Columbus area that will work on this problem. Frustration!!!
My friend Cori texted me to remind me of Beaver Motors RV in Beaver Springs, Pennsylvania. They work on Roadtreks. I reached Nick, at Beaver Motors RV and asked him if they could replace the macerator hose he said, “Yes”. When I asked him if he could look at my one window that has an annoying water leak he said, “Yes”. When I asked him if he could check one more thing his answer was “Yes”.
By now, you probably know who I am going to go to for some home repairs. He even offered to let me camp in their lot. On Friday I will be waiting at eight in the morning to get my rig in.
Tomorrow my New Jersey sister, Ginny will be meeting me for the weekend in Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania, one of the towns on the Susquehanna River. While my rig gets worked on we will hotel it, visit, and explore the surrounding area. It will be my last visit with her for some time. We are making the most of being closer in proximity. I am looking forward to one more visit.
I crossed over the Canadian/US border on Monday, September twenty-fifth. It was hard to say goodbye to the north country. It was a grand journey into Canada this summer and fall.
Visiting with good friends in Vermont for a few days made it easier to acclimate back into my own country. I visited Diane and Tom going north, what seems like ages ago, but was really just this past July. I got to do a repeat performance. On a lovely Tuesday, the three of us kayaked on one of the local reservoirs. It was a perfect morning and afternoon.
DianeTom
Fall has arrived on the northeast coast. It is Indan Summer with cool nights and warm days. It is kind of a last hurrah before winter arrives. The leaves are changing colors. No one is sure if it is going to be a good fall, with brilliant leaf colors or just a so-so one. There are all these theories that the locals use to predict whether it will be a good “Leaf Peeping” fall or not. The trees know but they let people do their local predictions before they decide to show their color. The verdict is still out for this fall. Foliage usually peaks around the second week in October.
Friday presents me with another kind of adventure. Home repairs. I am so glad to be driving towards someone who will take care of EmmyLou for me. It feels good to be putting her into good hands.
Today and I am sure over the next few days I will continue to be thankful for Beaver Motors RV service department.
After I spent two nights at Saguenay National Park in the Province of Quebec, I began to move south. I am in Sherbrooke, Quebec. Thanks to Harvest Hosts and Boondockers Welcome I am tucked into a driveway of a lovely home.
I am here to attend a Hommage (French) or a Celebration of Life for a good friend of mine, Therese. I have posted about Therese before in this blog. I believe it was the fourth or fifth post, beginning this journey in 2013. Here is a link to that post Guess Where I Am. If you click on the area in bold blue it will take you to that link.
Therese was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease at least six years ago. She died in May, two days before I departed for the Amazon. She grew up in North Hatley, Quebec. Today, Saturday there will be services for her in her home town. Since I am close I knew I wanted to attend this celebration. She was my friend.
Therese was my friend. We shared time together. We first met at the college where Jim and her husband worked. She was so nice, and funny and had such a lovely lilting French accent. I knew we would become friends. She was also a nurse and healer. When I was undergoing treatment for breast cancer she would come to the house and we would sit out back and play Scrabble and Bananagram and we would talk not about cancer, not about health, just about life. I was part of a women’s game night at her home and often attended parties at her and Drew’s (her husband) home. Over the years we developed a good friendship that would endure for the rest of her life and my life too. I miss her already.
This past year has been hard. I know that I am seventy, and I still think of that as young. I have lost some good friends, starting last October. I am not doing well with accepting that this can begin to happen at this time of my life. It is time to address this issue so I can learn to accept the departure of friends and others from my life.
Grief has arrived again to remind me of the impermanence of my life and of others. It has made me remember that I have been going through this in some form since Jim, my husband died almost eleven years ago. It wakens part of me that is dormant most of the time. It is a hard and odd teacher. Grief brings me into the present moment. It may sound odd to say that it makes me feel alive in a different way than almost any other thing I have experienced. My emotions sit on the surface as does my heart. I live more in the moment forgetting about the past or future.
This all sounds positive and in ways it is. There are times when it is exhausting and overwhelming. I know after today that it will quiet down again as I remember and mourn those who have left so recently.
In honor of my friends who have moved on:
Judy was a long-time friend and teacher. She and her husband, Fred were instrumental in my life for a long time. I will miss her presence. I posted a blog about her and her husband in another early blog post. On the Road Again. I will miss her and her horses and her continuing love and guidance in my life.
Gail died last fall. She was my acupuncturist, healer, and friend. She left too soon and I miss her.
I met Jon shortly after I moved to San Diego. He was a Morris Dancer as was I. Jon bought the kayaks Jim and I built back in 2019. I miss his delightful presence and his generosity.
I also posted about Ron this year. A Cowboy in My Life. Like Judy, they were cowboys I met in Colorado. Ron took care of the property we owned. He was a teacher, a friend, and more. Maybe just maybe Judy and him have met and are now “Riders in the Sky”.
I treasure my friends and have wonderful memories of those who have moved on. All of my friends, close and far have helped shape who I am today and I am grateful for this. I have had some excellent teachers in my life and I value each one. All I can say is thank you to each one. They have all been teachers, down to earth and loving. I will miss each one.
Today I am thankful for the amazing friendships I have formed over the years.
After driving through the winds from Hurricane Lee, I safely made it to Moncton, New Brunswick last night. Whew. the winds blew yesterday. Along Highway 104 there were swaths of trees that had blown over in the forests along the way. I drive a high-clearance vehicle so I have learned to slow down and take breaks to relax between stretches of driving. Oh, and breathing is essential, long, slow, and steady.
This morning it is a sunny and lovely almost a fall day. I am waiting patiently while EmmyLou is getting serviced. She has been such a good rig this summer. Now it is her turn to get some love and attention.
Viewpoint of Fjord du Saguenay in Quebec Province
I am not finished with Canada. After my rig is serviced and I see a chiropractor (I am getting serviced too) I am going to be spending more time in New Brunswick as I head toward Quebec Province. I am once again going to cross the St. Lawrence Seaway. This time it is a bridge crossing. I am on my way toSauganay Fjord National Park. I met several people over the past month who told me it is a must-see. I am already here so why not. I am looking forward to fall in the East. The colors had begun to change a little as I was preparing to leave Newfoundland.
I hope you will join me on my fall adventures in eastern Canada. It is fun to have someone to share stories with and share my photos.
I will remain in Quebec Province for a week before I once again head to the United States and begin to consider heading west. I don’t want to winterize my rig, although I know I can.
Yesterday I took the ferry for seven hours from “The Rock” Newfoundland to Nova Scotia. It is hard to say goodbye to a month-long journey around this island.
The best and worst of Newfoundland. There are not many worst The one worst I can think of….Potholes! I have learned to drive slowly and carefully. Often I found that dirt roads were more manageable and easier than the paved roads. When I encountered signs that said Pot Holes Ahead it really meant potholes ahead. No road was immune to the pothole phenomena. Not only did I have to be concerned about potholes but often the roads dipped in odd and different ways and sometimes the sides of the road were shattered and I had to drive in the middle. In a few days, I will be taking EmmyLou to the dealer to get her oil changed. I will be asking them to check her alignment.
There are too many bests to list. But here are a few highlights.
Gannets, I drove to a colony of these birds and spent the night at the visitor center. During the day I was able to observe and photograph these birds. In the evening I went to a concert at the visitor center featuring folk music, a storyteller, and a four-string quartet that was really three strings and a flute. It was a delightful evening. People don’t seem to mind driving in the fog to go to events.
Launce aux Meadows on the northern end of the island. It is one of the only Viking settlements on the North American Continent. After exploring the settlement I took a hike and discovered fairy houses.
Because I did not get enough of the Puffin Experience on the Mingan Archipelago I went to Elliston, camped on the beach, and could see and photograph more Puffins.
A Doctor who was able to diagnose my ear pain, and prescribe medicine so I could enjoy the rest of my journey. The woman in the Pharmacy who directed me to the doctor.
Camping near Trinity
All the free camping in amazing places everywhere on the island.
Gros Morne National Park. This place was amazing. When I was younger and not dealing with ankle issues I would have spent days hiking in this park. The views were grand, the towns picturesque, and the people friendly and helpful.
Camping in the Municipal, Provincial, and National Parks was a great experience. The campsites were clean and private. Laundromats were in each park and warm showers were plentiful. It was fun to do the laundry as there was usually a waiting line and I got to meet others that were waiting.
The surprises I found in the small out-of-the-way towns throughout the island. One night I camped at the Giant Squid Interpretation Center.
Cape Spear-Furtherest East lighthouse in Canada
The lighthouses. I have been to so many lighthouses. I keep thinking I have been to enough of them but then I read about or see a sign for another one and off I go in search of another lighthouse.
It has been a wonderful summer and autumn along the water’s edge. I love being close to the ocean. If there is no ocean then there are lakes and rivers, streams and bogs.
The plentiful picturesque towns tucked away in harbors all along the coast.
The colorful houses and stages everywhere I looked. I really enjoy seeing such colorful buildings and homes.
Lastly, everyone I met or interacted with was so nice and kind and open. I enjoyed meeting the people who lived on “The Rock”.
You may get the idea that I enjoyed my visit. I did. It was hard to leave and I believe I will return. There was so much more to see and do and experience. I enjoy the adventure of discovering the new and unique. There were more pictures to take.
Today I am thankful for a smooth sail. The staff aboard the ferry said that the water was calmer than it had been in a month. I am thankful for discovering a new place that was such a complete experience for me.
I have been in Newfoundland for three weeks. Before I started this journey I asked a local Nova Scotian how long I should give myself on “The Rock”. His reply was at least a month if not more. I didn’t believe him. Now, I do. I am running out of time.
This “Rock” is beautiful. I am not here at the right time of year to see icebergs or Puffins feeding their young and you know what, I don’t care. I have been traveling the back roads and loving every minute of what I have been seeing.
As I have been told I came in through the back door. After spending a week crossing the TransLabrador Highway, I took the ferry from Labrador to the island’s north end. I was engulfed by the mysteries of this amazing place. I spent a few nights at the very north end so I could explore everything Viking.L’Anse aux Meadows National Historic Site, a UNESCO site, and a treasured find. I dove into the world of everything Viking. I even had my photo taken with my very own Viking.
The site contains the excavated remains of a complete 11th-century Viking settlement, the earliest evidence of Europeans in North America and the only Viking settlement. It consists of eight timber-framed turf structures built in the same style as those found in Norse Greenland and Iceland from the same period.
It was in a beautiful spot overlooking the ocean. I spent much of the day exploring, ending it with a hike along the coast, through the bogs, back to my rig. It was an interesting day spent among the Vikings from the fifteenth Century.
Since there is only one main road from the north I began my meander down the island. I took time to explore the little side roads to different villages hugging the coastline. I went where people told me to go as it was a must-see. Then I wandered off the must-sees and found my own spots to be in awe of.
Even though it is only a month my pace feels a bit leisurely allowing me time to explore at an easy pace. I have been in the mountains, Gros Morne National Park and along the ocean and everywhere in between.
Here are a few of my favorite places among the many that I have seen in Newfoundland.
Pistolet Bay Provinical Park. There are some places I camp that are a little bit better than other campgrounds. I really liked this campground. They let me a few others camp in the overflow area which was right next to a beautiful lake. I could hear loons.
Cow Head. Once I crossed a spit of land I parked and hiked into an historic lighthouse that was hiding in the woods.
Trout River is this quiet little town at the end of the road. I fell in love with the area and the people. Everyone was so kind and welcoming. The big event in trout river happened in 2014 when a dead blue whale beached in this small town. What do you do with one of the largest and dead mammals in the world? I guess you are going to have to visit Newfoundland or check it out on the web.
Twillingate
Twillingate is at the end of one of the many arms of Newfoundland. I arrived on a beautiful day and went off to explore the lighthouse and hike some of the trails. It is a very pretty little town.
Elliston is the home of the Puffins and is the Root Cellar Capital of the World. This little town had to reinvent itself. At one point it could not even pay for electricity for the community. The town had a meeting and decided to cash in on tourism with the Puffin Colony and the Root Cellars. They now are financially solvent. Although most of the Puffins were gone when I arrived I did see the straggling adolescents and adults.
Trinity Lighthouse and the town of Trinity are extremely picturesque and the light house offered me the best of camping and exploring. I think it was one of my favorite campsites.
How can anyone not like towns that are named Hearts Ease, Hearts Delight, Hearts Desire and Hearts Content? When I saw the names on the map I knew I had to go and explore this arm of Newfoundland.
I am as far east as I will be going on this trip. I made it to St John’s, the largest and only city on the island. Just like the rest of the island it has been interesting to explore a more urban setting, get a pedicure and a hair cut and color. This is a colorful town with a pretty seaport. And dining out is fun. Banana Bread French toast is a good way to start a day.
St John’s
Tomorrow I drive into my last week on “The Rock”. Newfoundland continues to be a fine adventure. I have enjoyed my last few days in the city, yet I will be glad to leave it behind and head into the rural areas once again.
Today I am thankful for the little thing that make me feel good, a pedicure and a new do. Today I am thankful for the adventure of it all.
I was on a lighthouse island in the MIngan Archipelago in the Gulf of St. Lawrence in Quebec Province, Canada for four days, from August eleventh to the fourteenth.
I went to a photography workshop with Christopher Dodds. I wanted to learn more about my camera and improve my wildlife photography skills. And I did. In four days, my photography stepped up a notch.
We stayed on the island in a house that was set aside for us. Each of us had our own room and a shared bathroom. My room faced the lighthouse which is electronically controlled. It did not interfere with my rest at night. We were served three delicious meals a day. It is amazing how much energy it takes to photograph wildlife.
What was I photographing? PUFFINS!! Oh my goodness, puffins everywhere. They were in flight returning to their burrows with fish for the young. They were flying. They were creating wonderful antics on the cliffs that I could photograph.
Here is a video of some of my better photos. It was so much fun.
There were four of us in the workshop. Charley from Chicago, Julie, and Reiner from Florida. We were a very compatible group. When Charley and I saw the first puffins we just started to laugh for the sheer joy of it.
When we weren’t shooting puffins there was other wildlife to photograph.
Our typical day started at four thirty a.m. By five a.m. we were on the beach capturing the puffins returning from sea in the beautiful early morning light. Breakfast was at eight and then it was back to the beach for the rest of the morning. Lunch was at noon. We had a bit of siesta time and then returned to the beach to catch the puffins at sunset. Dinner was at five p.m. then once again we returned to the beach for one more round before sunset. Whew.
Shortly after we left the island all the adults leave for the winter. They go back out into the ocean and do whatever puffins do. Except for breeding season, they are solitary at sea. The young wait a few days until they get hungry and soon they also leave their nest and go to sea. Not all the young will make it through their first year. On this particular island as they leave there are seals waiting for the young. Nature can be cruel. Christopher told us that only five to seven percent of this colony of young will make it to adulthood.
After three nights I was ready to settle down and catch up. Following Chris’s suggestion I decided to take the Trans-Labrador Highway to Newfoundland. It is a bit like going through the back door. Whew. It is in the middle of nowhere. And that is how I found myself on the TransLabrador Highway.
Today I am thankful for opportunities that present themselves, I am thankful for good Photographers who are willing to teach others their knowledge and skills.
How did I get to the TransLabrador Highway? After speaking with a friend of mine I realized I have some catching up to do. I have been busy and enjoying exploring places I have never been before.
After the Roadtrek Gathering in Nova Scotia, I returned to Halifax to explore the area just north of the city with my friend Cynthia from San Diego. We went to Cow Bay because well, why not? What is Cow Bay known for? There is a giant sculpture of a Moose that people like to go and see.
After we wandered the beaches and had lunch we returned for an afternoon Scottish Dance.
From that moment on plans changed and they were arranged as I drove. I had an opportunity to participate in a photography workshop to photograph Puffins on the north shore of the Gulf of St Lawrence in Quebec province, Canada. It was a last-minute change. Newfoundland got put on hold and I took about a week to arrive at the workshop.
It was time to visit National Parks in Canada. Definitely a very good experience. I love National and State Parks. Wherever they are, the campsites are private and there is always something to explore. I spent two nights at Kouchibouguac National Park in New Brunswick Canada. I had a great campsite and spending more than one night allowed me the opportunity to explore this park by bike and kayak. It was a place I could return to again for a longer stay. There was a lot to do. And the scenery is amazing.
As I continued to make my way north I spent two nights in Campbellton New Brunswick. Set along the Restigouche River and surrounded by the Appalachian Mountain Range.
The site of 16th- and 17th-century French missions and Scottish fish and lumber trading posts, it was settled by dispossessed ACADIANS in 1757, though most left with the French defeat in the 1760 naval Battle of the RESTIGOUCHE. It received its present name (for Lieutenant-Governor Sir Archibald CAMPBELL) after a post-1825 influx of Scots.
The Province of Quebec is across the river and connected to Campbellton by the J. C. Van Horne Bridge. The community is a hot spot for fly fishing for Atlantic Salmon. It was also a bike-friendly city. When traveling full time there are certain times where checking into an RV park is the best thing to do. I stayed at a lovely park right on the river. And….I got to do my laundry.
The next morning I visited the nearby towns. I could have been in Scotland. I went to McLeods in the morning to visit the Farmers Market. On the way there I passed through the towns of Dundee and Upper Dundee.
And then it was time to get on my bike and explore Campbellton. It is a small city right on the river. There are bike paths that one could travel miles on. It was fun to explore this fishing mecca. It must have not been the right time of the year for the salmon as it was quiet.
Looking down the Restigoushie River
I continued to drive north the long way around. I arrived at my second Canadian National Park in the afternoon. Forillon National Park sits at the end of the road, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. My heels have been happy so I did quite a bit of hiking at this park. There was so much to see. I loved the wildness of it. On my hike to the lighthouse (5 miles round trip) I saw whales.
Historic Cod plantLighthouse at the parkView from the end of the trail
After two days I arose early one morning to drive the four hours to the ferry and prepared to cross the St Lawrence Seaway. I was on my way to Puffin-land. I promise I will tell you more. It was so much fun.
Now the fog is lifting and I think I have covered a lot of territory both physically and writing-wise. I am fine out here in this big wide lonely country. Currently, I am sitting next to the beach where I spent my night. Boondocking is so much fun here.
Today I head south so I can catch my ferry for the next part of the adventure. Newfoundland.
Today I am thankful for my eyes, my ears, my heart, and my spirit that seeks out adventures great and small. It makes my life whole.
I have been traveling the Trans-Labrador Highway west to east for the past six days. It is a wide open, lonely land with firs covering more distance than anyone can imagine. They are usually short scrubby trees indicating the long, harsh winters, the winds, and the terrain. As I red approached the Atlantic the land has become more open glaciated terrain. And then there is water. Lakes, Rivers, Streams, Bogs, and Brooks.
I drove into this country not knowing what to expect. It was not on my original route. Over the first few days, this wild space embraced me. It gave me time to think, feel, ponder, and recognize the loneliness of the land and myself. Until the third day, the only time I spoke with someone was when I filled up my thirsty gas tank. Then it was off into the wilderness again.
Boondocking
Each day, I pulled into camp around three in the afternoon. I was dry camping or boondocking. I would find a dirt road and pull in to see if there was a good, hopefully level spot to camp for the night.
Then I would wander, down to the river, out into the woods to see what my home was for those twelve hours. I would return to my rig when the black flies would become too much to bear. This was my routine each night.
And I thought and pondered. Being alone is hard, being alone is easy. Being alone way out here is just, alone.
Several years ago there was a woman who had recently bought a Roadtrek and began to travel with her dog. I never met her but was in touch with her by email and on Facebook. Her life was a struggle and had appeared to be so for quite some time. Sometime in that year she went into the mountains of the southeastern United States and died. I was going to say committed suicide but that is a term I am not always comfortable with. One night I thought about her as dusk turned to night.
I wonder if her loneliness was profound and there was no other way out. It is hard to have someone end their life like this. I always want to understand why. Often there is no answer. What makes one person choose this way out and another struggle to find solid ground and become richer for the experience of thinking about this and choosing life?
Have I thought about this? Yes, I have. Those first years after Jim’s death were hard. The grief was hard. The loss was hard. The balance in my life was sent off kilter and I needed to find it again. Sometimes when life is hard, we think of easy ways out. I don’t think suicide is an easy way out. I believe it is something people struggle with for a long time before coming to the acceptance that this is the way to leave this world. For others like me, I take a deep breath and strive to find purpose and balance again in my life. I am still working on it.
I mourned her loss that evening and embraced the grief and the struggle that her death brought to me. I have not thought of her in a long time but a few nights in the wide-open lonely country gave me a chance to mourn her loss and say goodbye.
I have had to say farewell to some good friends over the past couple of years. My past year has been a bit overwhelming with friends who have stepped out of this world. I have taken some time on this trip to think of each one and embrace my sense of loss and say my own farewell to them out in this wide open lonely country.
Chris McCandless left his home on the east coast of the United States and traveled across the United States and into Alaska. He was another soul who was a bit lost. He finally found a bus and made it his home in the wilds of Alaska. He died there as well. The wilderness can call a person and welcome them in. If a person is not aware it can pull them in so strongly that they never leave again. Maybe they are not prepared for the harsh unforgiving land, not enough food, not the right gear, not enough knowledge going in. I have thought about him and about how the outback of Alaska may have given him some comfort as he unsuccessfully tried to survive. The wilderness of the land and the wildness of the soul can be harsh and unforgiving teachers.
I have been in the wilderness before but nothing like the country I am in now. I admit that I could have come a bit more prepared. My rig is good and she got me through these long days with ease. Good for you EmmyLou I appreciate her so much. A good and fine home. How could I have been more prepared?
I did let my one sister know where I was heading and when I would be taking the ferry to “The Rock”-Newfoundland.
Each day brought no cell phone reception. If something had gone wrong with me or the rig there was no way to reach out. Next time I will bring a satellite radio. It is good to be prepared. There were cars and trucks on the road so I would not have been alone for long. People out in this country are kind and thoughtful and will reach out to the person stranded on the side of the road.
This morning I am sitting at a pullover writing this before I enter back into the land of people and tourism. Out there on this body of water next to my rig are loons calling into this wild land. Last night I heard an Elk bugle, waking me from a sound sleep. I feel like I drove into this country one person and am leaving more settled and aware of what may be important to my life at this moment.
It is a wild lonely country out here. I am grateful today for the experience of it. I am more than thankful that I was able to enjoy it end to end without mishap. Today I am thankful that I will acclimate back into the life of people. I am in Red Bay and oh look…there is a restaurant. Breakfast anyone?
Since the first year of the Covid pandemic, new ways of communicating have emerged. It has made our world larger and it has made our world smaller.
A new word entered our vocabulary, “Zoom”. People arranged meetings via Zoom since they could not meet in person. There were book clubs, art groups, businesses that resorted to Zoom to conduct business and keep up with group activities. For a short while I even arranged to Zoom with my sisters and nieces. We would meet once a month just to check in and make sure everyone was OK. We were.
The Royal Scottish Country Dancers of San Diego, met every Friday via Zoom. Ward our teacher was incredibly faithful to meeting every Friday. And the dance community responded, showing up most Fridays to catch up. We may not have danced but we could learn some of the quirks and queries of dance and we stayed bonded as a community.
Jean, our other Scottish Dance teacher Zoomed most Mondays and taught dances. People met in their living rooms, garages or other areas of their homes, dancing alone or with other members of the household.
The Royal Scottish Dance Society of Scotland, our mother-ship, met once a month via Zoom with members all over the world. Different teachers from different countries and areas would teach each month. And…we danced in our homes. We stayed connected and involved even though many of us had never met.
Why might I be sharing this with you? Currently I am in Canada. I was in Nova Scotia for a Roadtrek Rally. It was fun. At the same time as the rally, very good friends of mine, Cynthia and Ward from San Diego, were in Halifax at the Scottish Country Dance, Teachers Association of Canada dance week. Ward is involved with the board and both travel to dance. The music is amazing and the dancing fun.
More of the San Diego Scottish Dance members were at the Summer camp for dancing at St Andrews, Scotland. Yes it is fun to travel to dance. It is fun to make friends from all over the world.
St Andrews Dance Camp on the Wall of the Dance Venue in Halifax.
On Tuesday, TAC (Canada) and St Andrews Summer School had a shared dance to celebrate anniversaries. How did they do it? You guessed it. Zoom once again connected us across continents and water. Each group had their own teachers and musicians. They danced the same dance at the same time. A large Zoom video was on the wall of the space they were dancing in. We all waved at each other and for a small wee second in time two communities were united as one. How cool is that?
I was invited to experience it with the dancers even though I am not dancing at this moment in time. For about an hour I slipped in to watch the dancers, enjoy the fine music and surprise a few friends who had no idea I was close by. I also got to experience this event of combining two communites into one. It was a great afternoon.
Dancing with ScotlandYes it does get warm dancing.
Before 2020, who would have ever guessed that Zoom would become a noun and a verb in our everyday language. It has definitely made our world smaller and larger in that we can see each other and interact with each other in ways we could not have done before this. Zoom was in the right place and the right time. It took off and will be a part of our society until the next interesting and unique communication invention comes along.
Today I am thankful for Zoom and the joy it brought to me and others as we stayed connected in an unusual time for the whole world. Today I am thankful for my dance community of friends. Today I am thankful I am still able to stay involved in dance even if I cannot physically dance.
Journeys of Thankfulness 