Crossing the Provinces

OK- let's see if this computer will not shut down on me. here I am, sailing across the ocean - headed towards Newfoundland- wonderful isn't it. It is about 5 a.m. and after a rather peaceful night I gave up trying to stretch and contort( even tho' it was fairly comfortable in the chair) and have given i to the coffee urge and the computer.
Had an interesting day yesterday. I travelled from Prince Edward Island , into New Brunswick, and into Nova Scotia. I began my trip at 7.30a.m and finally got into North Sydney at 9 p.m.
Mind you, I did have an interesting little pitstop in a town called Truro. I couldn't actually find anything- I finally found a place to drink coffee - but the main town centre didn't actually seem to have anything in it - or maybe there were enormous glittery malls lurking behind the dull brick walls. Maybe I will check it out again next time I am in the area.
It is the forestation of this area that was so impressive. Imagine hectare upon hectare of boreal forest - green , so green and all those trees that people cultivate for their gardens - cedar, beech, maple, birch and various conifers. I had recently read that it was imperative to keep these boreal forests as there were groups who were interested in full on logging. Sound familiar? As you travel along the road , there are strong green stands of these trees looming above the road - but look behind. What you see are the guards to the corridor of destruction - behind stand the dwarf trees, young and immature. If you look carefully you will see that this is a common story. In the Rockies , it was easy to see whole areas degraded and worked under the clear felling policy. The avalanche danger through there is enormous in winter- the erosion must be horrendous.
Now - a bit of poetry in words- From the bus I gazed out at the green trees, seductively whispering that summer was here. With a heart full of hope, and a quick whipping off of the polar fleece, I melted into the beckoning of the summer. I alighted from the bus, urged on by the shimmering green, knowing that the warmth of summer was nigh - an icy blast of reality put a stop to that- I remember - northern summers are somewhat different to southern ones. here I am now dressed warmly in polare fleece, jumper and other undrneath bits and pieces, looking forward to a lovely summer's day in Newfoundland. I land in Port aux Basque soon. Thanks Amanda for the clothes....... I would have been an icy remnant without them.