Tooling along the St. Lawrence River in the XT4

Light – as we all know – is critical to seeing things.  What however we don’t often euologize (or at least, champion) is the the singular and beautiful alteration of light through the effect of clouds or the humidity of the atmosphere. The quality of the light evident today for example seemed to reflect the time of year and the nature of the season, including the mounting ambient soft temperatures. As we motored down Hwy#416 from Ottawa to Prescott then subsequently along the St. Lawrence River, we repeatedly eyed vistas of riverscape, homes and properties which previously had not manifested themselves with such vitality and enthusiasm. It may have been the unmistakable awakening of green in the fields and upon the leaves of the trees; or the glistening maritime allure of the yachts moored in their coves; or the streaking azure skies among the billowing white clouds with their tincture of grey. The world had exploded with colour!

This aimless galavanting was prompted by Jeff (superintendent) who undertook today the annual purge of the subterranean garage.  For this laudable springtime wash Kim of the property management team invited residents to remove their vehicles. We thought to profit from the quarantine by losing ourselves along the St. Lawrence River for several hours.  Our ultimate destination was Gananoque whence we turned about and retraced our direction (but not our path). But before turning back home, with the sunshine at our back, we first stopped at Katarina’s Coffee Shop in Prescott for breakfast.

Katarina’s Coffee Shop, Prescott, Ontario

This is not the first time we have lingered at Katarina’s.  It is however the first time I avoided the homemade pastries and had instead the eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, hash brown potatoes and fresh fruit cup.  With a Cappuccino of course. Utterly superb!  Already we’ve talked of returning. The Hudson family has achieved an enviable standard of service and product.

Naturally we couldn’t escape the percolating exchange regarding a comparison of the St. Lawrence River to the Mississippi River. We happily sustained our ultimate attachment to home territory in spite of the inexpressible display of the stone homes and red brick townhouses dating from Confederation on the river front in Brockville. The history of American and Canadian ventures insinuated the entire area adjacent the St. Lawrence River.