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