These Woods Well

I'd gladly be wandering deep into the wilderness, but some busy days distract my restless feet a while. Just as well, I can use the excuse for a break. This afternoon was taken by a visit to Prescott House, where I told tales to a small audience from my abandoned road adventures. On the way home, I followed this short path behind nearby St. John's Anglican Church. Somewhere I've stopped many times before. At its entrance are plaques commemorating two young people baptized here. George Price, the last Canadian soldier killed in WW1 — and Mary Peake, ambulance driver, first Canadian servicewoman killed in WW2. With the local schoolhouse once standing right across the road, they would have known these woods well, and perhaps lived to die old staying nearer its borders. But they died for something, or at least, I try to live like that's true. Some of us are so distracted by worldwide horrors that we never appreciate what escaping them entails. For all the good of a land at peace, you never feel it if you're not at peace yourself. Sober reminders seem to make me happy again.

June 21, 2025
Port Williams, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6432 of my daily journal.