We've been on the Glenora Ferry a few times already this week. This morning, we lucked out and got the front spot. Even though the morning was a misty one, Glenora's
timeless beauty was still there.
The Millennium Trail was calling to us this morning. I especially love the section between the west end of Picton and Wellington. There are still some fairly progressive farms to be seen from the trail. It was an if-you-build-it-they-will-come kind of morning. It felt like we were in Quebec - lots of people on the trail, walking, biking, running.
Some late-season hay in the distance.
Behind every good roadside vegetable market is a farmer who knows how to grow vegetables well. From the trail, Hagerman Farms' veggies were on full display. They started farming here in 1905.
Today we learned that at one time there were 75 canning factories in The County. Times change. Today, there is only one in this region. Just think: all of these vegetables would have been canned in former years. Today, they are sold fresh to locals and tourists.
I wanted to pay a visit to Lockyer Country Gardens, one agricultural business that has survived for 99 years. It's clear that they know how to grow plants well. We took some time to tour the outdoor plant displays and...
.... inside their greenhouses. Looks like they are embracing the movement to plant local flowers and grasses.
Apparently, most of their chrysanthemums have found new homes. It would have been interesting to visit a couple of weeks ago when they were at peak volume. A staff member told us that they get a lot of customers from both Toronto and Montreal. What a good memory to bring home from your holiday: a pot of....
.... whatever this is. I have no idea what this flower is, but isn't it stunning?
Traveling the back roads to Glenora, Ted glimpsed a blast from the past. We had to back up to see if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Well yes! A Grand Valley Fortifiers truck. Talk about farming changes over the years: we were their first customer east of the GTA 40 years ago. Today, they ship across Canada and internationally. We couldn't have succeeded in pig farming with out their expertise and excellent products and service.
Back at the campground, the sun put on a delicate display and the water reflected it back. This is our second last night as campers. We've had a good run.
It was lovely to be able to view farmers doing what they do well. Farming is not easy, sometimes it's a lot like living through a storm.
I can easily resonate with this author's thoughts:
“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions.
You change direction but the sandstorm chases you.
You turn again,
but the storm adjusts.
Over and over you play this out,
like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.
Why?
Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away,
something that has nothing to do with you.
This storm is you.
Something inside of you.
So all you can do is give in to it,
step right inside the storm,
closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in,
and walk through it,
step by step.
There's no sun there,
no moon,
no direction,
no sense of time.
Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones.
That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.
And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm.
No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be,
make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades.
People will bleed there,
and you will bleed too.
Hot, red blood.
You'll catch that blood in your hands,
your own blood and the blood of others.
And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through,
how you managed to survive.
You won't even be sure,
in fact,
whether the storm is really over.
But one thing is certain.
When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in.
That's what this storm's all about.”
Haruki Murakami
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