Thursday, July 30, 2015
Although I am out of gas, out of money, and almost out of energy, today was a good day, unlike any I have ever experience. I cried a few times, and struggled to not let worry ruin this glorious day.
Instead, I found Sackville, a small town about 45 miles from the Prince Edward Island Bridge. I have settled in behind the municipal tennis courts and splash fountains. Musicians are warming up on the bandstand as children giddily chase each other through the sprinklers.
Earlier, I walked into town and found a nature preserve with lots of ponds. I rested in the sun, surrounded by birds chirping.
I hoped I would find the humanity I lost, living so long in DC, and then amid the 1% in Vero Beach. If I stayed in Sackville, I think it would be easy to locate. Even the traffic is mellow. People are polite and don’t weave in and out of traffic because they are so important and in a hurry.
I wanted to write an interesting story, and so it begins, a few hundred miles east of anywhere I have been before. People laughed when I said I was going to camp out along the way, but I am doing it.
How surreal it is that this spectacle is laid out before me like this – happy children, good music, and warm breezes. Once I put aside the facts that I have no gas, no money, no place to sleep, and a bag of nut to eat, I laugh at what a show off God is.
As novel as this all is, I do not want the rest of the trip, or my life, for that matter, to be this harrowing. I am forgoing PEI and heading back to the states as soon as money hits my bank. I have seen enough of Anne of Green Gables land. I will come back more prepared.
I am brave. I keep forgetting that. Look at me, sitting here calmly, knowing this is temporary. This is a pretty big fuck up, but at least, I am out here trying. In the process, I have had a day worth writing about.