A Beautiful Place [MWE-Travel]

A Beautiful Place

Point Prim, Prince Edward Island

is where my wife's father

was born and bred...

"the prettiest place on the planet"

the locals say...

I must say I agree...’cept I haven’t

seen many places on our planet...

but of the ones I HAVE seen

P.E.I. IS the best, by far...

PEI was our pilgrimage every summer

...year after year...

we snickered at the locals...

they snickered at us from the “states”

all in fun was it done

as we enjoyed

their slice of “heaven”

for a fortnight

days we lazed and yearned to be burned

by the Maritime sun...

green patchwork fields

against a robin’s-egg blue sky

and the ocean sang or brooded...

depending on the weather...

in June, the lupins lined the lanes

in purple, pink and white...

abloom in russet-red soil

tobacco and potatoes and corn

all planted in rows as if a giant

comb slicked them back...

nothing quite readies you

for the Friday night concert at Selkirk Park

...not rock and roll, mind you...

but fiddlin’ and Irish dancing

and jokes so corny

you laughed just so you wouldn’t stand out

being the only one who doesn’t

you feel like you've been plucked from your space

and sent back in time

to a place where the pace is slow

and the people are still thrilled

by the simple joys in life

speaking of feeling like a fish out of water,...

the seafood is amazingly

fresh and good...

they prepare it simply here...

fresh creamery butter, bread crumbs, salt and pepper

and a huge helping of "wholesome"...

but it tastes perfect

unadulterated with a lot of ingredients

whose names they can't pronounce

yet alone find in the local market...

"jicama? never heard of it..."

my wife's uncle and a cousin or two were fishermen...

they say before they world discovered

that lobster was salt water gold

they'd curse them

when they pulled them from the sea

in their nets

and threw them on the fields for fertilizer...

the world changes for everyone, eh?

now, tourists come from all over the world

to the "Lobster Suppers" here...

large halls where they cater to the tourist's

appetite for...arguably...

the sweetest steamed lobster anywhere...

they feed you cafeteria style

where you can eat lobster,

fresh baked rolls and home made desserts

until you're full as a tick...

Where else do you find people like these?

...a Canadian version of

Lake Wobegone and everyone

you meet is either quirky, quaint or queer

...not gay...mind you...

that is something no one talks about

but everyone knows...

gossip flows like blood through their veins...

everyone knows

...who’s straight and who isn’t...

...who’s sleeping with whom...

...and who drove into the ditch

drunk at 3 am on the way home

from a “bender” in Charlottetown...

25 miles by road...

8 miles across the bay

... as the crow flies..

the old salts love to spin their yarns...

we visitors lap up the local lore

like the one about

the old days when the bay froze solid

for the winter

and they'd go to town and back over the ice

on horse-drawn sleighs

they’d drill holes and plant fir trees in the ice

so they wouldn’t lose their bearings at night

...or a sudden squall

cropped up quick...

and end up in Newfoundland...

the last man off the ice before

it broke up and disappeared

for another year

had bragging rights

‘til the next winter...

local lore has it the horses dragged Old Man McLean's

sleigh home over the ice one night

and him in it...blotto...

...three sheets to the wind...

the next morning, with pounding head

and bleary eyes...heading to the outhouse

in his union suit...

looked through squinting blood-shot eyes

...said..."what the...??"

...saw the ice had broken up and gone

in the night

chowder, biscuits, bonfires on the beach

clams and mussels “biled” in sea water

with celery and onions...

steeped in soothing salt air...

the sound of the surf lulled us to sleep every night...

the rising and ebbing tides and the wind in the marsh grass

gave the vistas life, breath

and a pounding heartbeat...

...smells of fresh mown hay, salt water...

gulls squawking

squadrons of “skeeters”

loving tender un-weathered flesh

of us tourists...you could almost hear them

cry “come and get it” as we raced

down the dirt road through

the night air to the cottages

just ahead of the

“kamikaze” critters

the moon is so big up there

and at night, it reflects in the ocean

...like a silver road to God above...

giving the water a satin sheen

and our hearts a sense of peace and wonder...

on moonless nights

...far away from urban sprawl...

a blaze of a billion stars make the night sky sparkle

with wishes of all of us who gaze and dream

July 1^st is Canada Day, replete with

parades, revelry and fireworks

a plan was made to see the blizzard of

sparkling lights, bangs and crackling pyrotechnics...

something we all from the “states”

know and love

...from my wife’s cousin’s living room...

...facing Charlottetown...

...8 miles away...

I could hardly take it in...

we’re used to Boston’s fireworks display

...pretty impressive...

but this must be AMAZING...

to be seen

that far away...

the chairs were set up...

the curtains pulled back...

we held our breath...

night fell to inky black...

...10 o’clock PM...

off they went...all ¼” of them...

the fireflies in the back yard emitted more splendor...

...we grinned in disbelief...

the locals were enthralled...

they are so unspoiled...

THAT is amazing...

I have to go back...

...you should, too...