It’s June 24th, very nearly following the Summer Solstice when the sun reached its maximum declination. Already the magical yellow and blue summer, at its height, begins its balmy predictable descent calculated and prolonged over the upcoming enchanting months. Manoeuvres like stage productions are universally planned for seasonal celebration. Parades of gypsies trailing moveable dwellings, boats and motorized off-road vehicles. The breeze is divine! Warm, soft, whispering its lazy memories. Seemingly without purpose or direction today we wound our passage along the country roads, passing infinite wavering fields, glimpsing magnificent green hillsides, to the Village of Burnstown nestled in Renfrew County on the Madawaska River.

We paused at Neat Café, the vertex of our roundabout tour, for a mid-afternoon luncheon. At our advanced age, the infrequent interruption of the day for nutrition marks a culinary convenience. Yet the predominance of our lazy design is the quality of the product. We rose to the occasion: first, a small cup of rapturous homemade mushroom soup, complemented by a delectable tuna melt sandwich and Greek salad (both of which we judiciously – and thankfully – shared). Yet not to be outdone by the singular opportunity, we (individually) punctuated the repast with a chocolate cake and a brownie, both superbly rich and gratifying.

During this mellifluent venture we reflected upon our past, in part driven by choice, in part dictated by accommodation, yet both with approbation in spite of chance or design. Neither of us has yet reached our ultimate limitation, the unimaginable determination of things. But like the birds and the insects that come and go, so shall we. Overcoming this peril is neither submission nor defeat. Some things are best ignored. As I glance from my desk across the burgeoning landscape upon the winding river, I simply cannot think of a more atmospheric panorama.