Lost in the Ottawa Valley

On my drive to Merrickville today I detoured and got lost.  It's a small threat naturally because I had a general idea where I was headed. As with so many other occasions on which people become disoriented I ended by going in a circle essentially. Not certain why that is, but there you are! My venture took me along two waterways - the Rideau River and the Mississippi River. Whether it was because we haven't had a lot of sun lately; or whether because the sky today was especially blue and the clouds remarkably white - whatever the reason, the spectacle this afternoon when rolling across the open fields was quite delightful!

After getting the car washed and gassed I couldn't resist putting down all the windows and opening the roof. The temperature had climbed to a balmy 22℃. There was a powerful wind as well.  When heading north from Merrickville back towards Ottawa the west wind was so strong it battered my head to and fro as I drove. Passing through one of the villages (perhaps it was Becketts Landing) I saw a young boy walking on the sidewalk, swatting a tennis racquet onto his knee. Elsewhere a young father, fashionably dressed, stood in his driveway and watched his little girl learn to ride a bicycle.

The open air and blustery wind were the salient features today.  I had been introduced to the phenomenon earlier this morning when we went for our constitutional bicycle ride. I willingly tolerate forceful wind because - depending on the direction one is going at the time - it either affords the benefit of a swift travel or the necessity of exceptional exercise.  Either way, it's a winning combination! Plus I find semi-violent weather more poetic than a steamy summer afternoon. Even a driving rain is perfectly agreeable when the natural abuse is welcome, fodder for the spirit and all that!

I have some familiarity with Merrickville. I made an impromptu stop there to see if friends were home. They were not. Seemingly they were on the golf course.  No matter, the atmosphere was so delicious I didn't mind at all having to regain my circular route. Passing through Merrickville and adjoining villages I was as always reminded of the many lovely homes in the area. The riparian allure provokes its customary magic. There are also the expected derelict farm houses and charming village homes which capture the inevitable quaintness of small-town living.