Home Is Where The Heart Is

Sometimes, it’s nice to just go for a walk, you know?  To just be alone with your thoughts, but without going crazy, because you’re not cooped up in your house, but surrounded by new things, different things.  It breaks up the monotony.  Me?  I like taking walks in places where there are trees.  Trees are just so nice, though I’m not sure why I find them so.  I just really love trees – I want to go to British Colombia primarily because I want to see giant trees and spend time in beautiful parks. 

My favorite colour is green.  I sometimes wonder whether I like trees because of that fact, or if I like green because I like trees.  It’s strange to think of it that way, and I can never figure it out.  I’m not really sure what I’m going on about.

Anyway, the song I’m posting today is “Dilly” by Band of Horses.  I haven’t listened to this album in a while, and I still love it as much as I did, what, two years ago now?  I only realized that as I just typed it there.  Weird.  I only know it’s been two years because I listened to Band of Horses on the drive to Newfoundland last time I went.  As I listen to it now, I’m getting excited again.  It’s really good driving music, especially at night.  I specifically remember driving over Kelly’s mountain in Cape Breton (Nova Scotia, Canada) on the way to catch the ferry.  It was getting dark, and it was a clear night.  My grandmother sat in the passenger’s seat, and she was napping.  Dad was driving, listening to some radio station.  My brother was listening to music quietly to my right.  I remember listening to one of the more mellow songs on this album, with my head leaning against the van window, looking up at the stars, gazing at the headlights as they came towards us and passed us, and seeing the reflection of the speedometer and dashboard lights in the front window.  I think I was listening to “Evening Kitchen” at one point, because every time I hear this song I think of that memory.   It was extremely soothing, I felt so relaxed.  There’s just something about a driving down a dark highway in silence, listening to your favorite song and watching the outlines of evergreens against the night sky pass in a blur.  What’s even nicer is that because it was so far out, there were no streetlamps for a long time.  Just you, the road, and the center yellow line. 

I also remember this weird feeling of anticipation, mingled with a bit of nervousness, and capped with an underlying sense of excitement.  I hadn’t been to Gaultois in about three years, and a lot can happen between being freshly 14 and freshly 17.  I hadn’t seen my family there in so long, and I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I also didn’t know what to expect of Gaultois.  My memories of time there that last summer weren’t the most clear.  It is a place that never changes, though, save for the ever-shrinking population (I’ve recently learned that the number is now below 200).  That makes me quite sad, because it is such a beautiful place.  Being there two years ago was like my first true experience there, because both other times, I had been so young.  I remember everything quite vividly from that summer, though.  It’s the perfect place to unplug from the world.  All of a sudden, I’m outside in the fresh air, walking around a town too small for cars, fishing, or sitting on a wharf and ignoring Facebook, an annoying constant in my life.  What surprised me was how good I felt there.  I was truly happy.  Not ecstatic, or hyper, but just happy.  I felt very much at peace. 

I remember the feeling when we finally got to the ferry terminal in North Sydney, and parking in a lane full of other cars waiting to board the ferry at midnight.  We got out to go use the bathroom and buy some snacks inside the terminal.  It’s just a small building, nothing fancy.  It startled me how familiar it felt when I walked in.  It, too, didn’t change a bit.  The claw machine that my cousin won a stuffed “Ollie” from Garfield was in the same place it was three years ago – in a dimly lit hallway outside the washrooms, not too far from the dark room where they were playing a movie.  It was comforting, and added to my excitement.  I almost think sometimes I’ll cry when I see Gaultois coming into view this summer.  I love that place so much, and it’s so strange, because I’m very much a city-girl, sometimes.        I guess I love the simplicity of it.  Gravel roads, colourful houses, and kids playing normal, outdoorsy games that kids in the city don’t play too much these days.  No one cares what you look like, there.  There’s no need to doll yourself up.  Instead, you get to let your hair do its own thing, or pull it back into a ponytail, and wear comfy, practical clothes.  What I might love most, though, is the sheer nothingness of the whole of Newfoundland.  You drive for hours without seeing a town.  It’s such a vast, untouched expanse of land.  It’s so pure.  Everything’s so calm and laid-back.  It’s truly a vacation. I'll post some photos below, because I wish I could share this place with the world.  (I also hate to be a nuisance, but if you're out there, feel free to comment and share your thoughts!)

I guess that was a fairly pointless post, but it’s nice to write what’s on your mind sometimes, don’t you think? 

Have a good night, or day, reader, if you’re out there. 

Just off the ferry, in Newfoundland

View of the mountains on the second ferry to get to Gaultois

Gaultois