I grew up looking down this road. Literally. When I found out where it went. I was disappointed. So I turned around and went back to where I came from. But I couldn't stay.
Call it cabin fever, I call it the unmitigating boredom of rocks, trees and grass that never change. The tyranny of seasons that come and go with mind numbing predictability. Of the same birds that turn up every year and sing the same songs. It is the oppressive influence of the landscape that sculpts the Canadian character. Pedantic, predictable, purist.
The city at the end of this road was not much better than nowheresville I came from. It was the same only with more Canadians. I did not find what I was looking for until I left Canada for good. It took me a few attempts but I finally made it. Now I revel in the complex metropolis that is Europe.
Fly you fat ducks. There are people out there and people who are worth knowing.
Gray Dourman
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