We left Quebec City with storm clouds gathering. Indeed, as we drove away, leaving behind us the Citadel and Chateau Frontenac and the cobblestone streets of Upper Town and Lower Town we thought we might stop and walk around a bit in the Plains of Abraham. But in those few minutes the weather turned, and the skies darkened, and rain began to fall. So we marveled at the park at the plains thru rain drop speckled windows, leaving a closer examination for another time, perhaps. There always seems to be a need for another time.
The clouds chased us as we drove west. Highway 40 through the green of a Canada spring. Good weather ahead of us, rain behind. And when we stopped for lunch it seemed as if we were no further from the clouds then than we were when we drove thru Porte St. Louis.
We drove thru farms spread out over rolling hills. We drove thru forests. Ducks flew over us. And black Ravens fled the onslaught of smaller parents fearlessly defending their nests.
Poplar trees stood in the woods, their gray-silver boles climbing to the sky, their quaking leaves shimmering in the forest canopies. And we finally out ran the storm.
