Fifteen Minutes' Drive From My Front Door
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We passed three dog sled teams on our way. A parkway strung through a cluster of islands in the St Lawrence river. Campgrounds, beaches, empty islands, canoeing, cycling all seem distant as the rain and snow splat down. We duck under the gate blocking the roadway.
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I'll be camping on this site in six months, stopped by to check it out and was smashed with a wall of reminiscence. Right there, across the bay, remember when Dad gave me my first taste of Labatt's? He laughed so hard when 5 year old me spit it all over the picnic table.
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Today's beverage is warmer, maybe more appropriate. Mmmm hot cocoa
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Seems safe to assume that no one is violating that ordinance today.