A Nice Vacation

 

It was really a very nice vacation;

a road trip to Lion’s Head Ontario

on Lake Huron to visit family

and explore an area I hadn’t seen before.

 

I crewed on a sail around the peninsula,

watched the grandkids play on the rocky shore,

saw some limestone caves and perfected the art

of entering and leaving a hammock .

 

But where was the Annisquam Light and Coffins

and Wingaersheek and Good Harbor and

where was the aroma of the ocean, the rhythm

of the tides and the feel of salt on the skin?

 

Where was Fiesta, and the Schooner Festival,

block parties at night and dory races and whale watches;

or the Dog Bar Breakwater, Bass Rocks and

the light that adds such magic to our every day?

 

Coming home, we spent some time in the Adirondacks,

a place where, for years, I hiked and climbed and camped.

The peace of the inland lakes, the grandeur of the High Peaks

and the majesty of its old growth forests are dear to me.

 

But where was Dogtown with its mythic allure

and Ravenswood, high above the harbor

and the granite walls of flooded quarries

and  the wind rustling the marsh grass in Jones Creek?

 

Most of the people I met along the way

were courteous and kind and friendly and helpful;

but where were the toughened fishermen, the storytellers,

artists, poets, merchants and trades-people of Gloucester?

 

It was a very nice vacation, full of discovery

and relaxation, but where was my home?

 

© Marty Luster 2012

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