Four a.m. on a June morning is an interesting time to start a journey, the crickets chirp, the stars are sprinkled above and something rustles out near the compost pile, a coyote howls. Driving east the sun appears and suddenly there are hundreds of drivers on Route 2. Where are they going at 5 a.m.? We lose them around 495 and as we proceed north I begin to consider lunch. It is 8 a.m. Coffee becomes a substitute for eating. We cross the border with all our fruit intact after we have stuffed ourselves with the cherries customs might confiscate. By noon, I am looking for a bed for the night.
Rain started seriously at 2pm, becoming vicious by 4. We stop in Sackville NB grateful we are not tenting like the men who have pushed on to Labrador and are fishing.
Marilee’s baby has been perfect, I can’t say as much for all of us but sleep should help.