|A while ago we had gone a nice forest path along the water’s edge, just along the south end of the island. Most of Campobello’s south is part of the Roosevelt Park. There is a place called Fox Farm and another place called Cranberry Point. I haven’t seen any cranberries out there and foxes….. well, once they had a fox farm there. That must have been before Brigitte Bardot got active. anyway a long time ago they raised foxes there for their fur. There’s nothing left of the fox farm … just the name.|
So a thought had formed in my head to invite our friends for a nice lazy afternoon walk along said path, for so indulge in a coffee/cookie frenzy out on Cranberry Point. We have 2 buses, so this afternoon we deployed both of them. One, driven by Bea went ahead, loaded with all kind of equipment, coffee, hot water for tea, and cookies. Molly went along there as well. I took the other bus to pick up our friends and brought them out to Cranberry Point as well, where we put the goodies our friends had brought along into the other vehicle and pick up Bea and Molly. Then we went back to Fox Farm, from where the nice woody path starts.
The total length is only about 1km, but for us “older people” that is plenty long enough to walk and certainly nobody wanted to walk any longer before we got to the reward with coffee and cookies waiting for us at the other end..
The weather was outstanding – another day of summer - mercifully bestowed on us from above.
So we stopped and looked across the channel - the Narrows – keeping the States from Canada. There was “The Sparkplug” the mid-channel lighthouse which can only be reached by boat, there was the span of the International bridge connecting two countries. Was there a Falcon in the air? And look at the beautiful Mountain Ash with its red berries.
All too soon we reached Cranberry Point. We opened the parked bus and got all the goodies out on the park bench. There was a single lady parked with her own car a bit apart of us. She was working on a painting. We offered her coffee and cookies – but she refused. One of us went and apologized to her for disturbing her solitude. I’m sure she was shocked when that bus had pulled up, and then later a bunch of loudly chatting wanderers popped out of the woods.
We sat there for well an hour, munching each other's cookies and enjoying the scenery.
At about 5pm the sun was getting behind a few trees and it was cooling off. When we gathered everything off the table the painter lady came over asking for how late it was. Did her car didn’t have a clock?
She was nice enough and accepted a glass of lemon tea. Bea was driving back to where the other bus was parked and we all got home. I was home first, while Bea brought our friends home. It was then that I couldn’t find our house key. I knew I had stuffed it into my pocket, but it wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the bus either. So I waited for Bea to come home. There was only one place the key could be – at the spot where we had stopped and I had gotten into the Dodge – pulling out the bus keys.
We had to go back and look for it. When we got there Bea spotted the key right away. It had a bright pink tag and was in the grass where I had gotten into the Dodge – just as I had assumed.
So, needless to say the day ended on the most positive note and everybody was just happy with the afternoon.
Gotta do that again. (‘cept for loosing the key :-))