With my car windows down and the landau roof open I wended my way home late this afternoon along the rural roads from Arnprior. I passed through the tiny villages which dot the countryside. Some - like White Lake and Waba - are too small even to be seen on a Google map without significant enlargement. Close towards Pakenham there were five or six historic tractors parked in a row parallel the road in a field adjoining a farm house. The declining amber sunshine captured their rusted, copper tones which reflected the awakening autumnal colours of some of the trees. The vividness of the hues was captivating, full-bodied yet silken. The perfectly clear sky was a dome of turquoise. I regretted not having stopped to take a photograph of the unique site but I had whirred by too quickly to regain the window of opportunity.
The rapture of the scenery reminded me what it is I adore about Lanark County and the northern privilege of the seasons. The scale of beauty was uniquely accented by the precision of the tinctures of the changing leaves, lush corn crops and expansive horizon. Through the fortuity of the moment I had succeeded to afford myself one of those euphoric instances of unqualified enchantment. The simple pleasures of a warm and sunny day, a clean windshield and a full tank of gas, a moderate degree of self-satisfaction, a tranquil catalogue of events and an appetite for dinner combined to make a transcendent state.