La Forêt Magique, Percé, Quebec.
A thick fog greeted me in the morning and all through the walk in the midst of the magical forest, as they call a little part of a hill, leading to the most superb view of Percé and its rock and the island across. Nothing of this supposed postcard view had been seen yet, instead of it there was only the consistent humidity, yet that somehow added charms to the trees’ landscape. I’m glad I passed it when there was something truly mystical about it. A couple of hours later the sun pierced through, and inch by inch the mist lifted, slowly unraveling the coast, until the horizon was open for new adventures.
The day that started so badly and ended so magnificently reminded me how transient things during traveling are. Not because you move, but because life always does, I guess. And now, I’m off to succumbing to jet-lag, it’s tomorrow I’ll try to put my impressions of a few weeks Quebec journey sort of together. My mind is already drifting in its own fog now…