Break from the city

Lake Erie: the pier at Port Dover, Ontario





Saturday night: our campfire at the Point


My companion was schillerium. Our weekend destination was the Point, a gay campground catering particularly to the bear and leather crowd.

Due to a tar spill, the drive took five hours, twice the time expected. On arrival, even worse: the park’s pool had a leak, so no water. The sky was foreboding. I considered cutting our stay short.

The mosquitoes were occasionally horrendous, but Craig didn’t mind (he’s from Sudbury). Green frogs grunted in the pond. Saturday morning I was wakened by robins, orioles, thrushes, rose-breasted grosbeaks, blue jays, great crested flycatchers, flickers and warblers. Craig remarked on the diversity. Rain never came, and with him enjoying this rural escape, departure plans evaporated.

Saturday we drove to Port Dover. On the beach I spotted a gull with a black head. Back at the campsite, perusing my field guide, I figured it must have been a Franklin’s gull, somewhat unusual.

Visited Skippy.

Barbecued steak then Craig and I sat by the campfire, waiting for the campground’s night energy to mount.

Today, it took less than three hours to drive home.

First heat wave. Air conditioning doesn’t work. Sunday dinner, we lounged around, damp and deflated, taking turns sprawling across the floor.


( +1, Craig by the campfire )

Another photo is posted in rural_ruin: Sic transit gloria mundi.