Roads in Ontario are straight as an arrow
going on and on for ever towards the horizon.
This was where we parked to walk a little bit of the Bruce Trail.
Grasses edged the lake
Grasses that were even taller than an elephant's eye.
Grasses that stretched and swayed in gentle breezes.
We walked the shoreline at sunset
watching seagulls fly overhead one after the other
flying from the mainland to their roost on a tiny island.
They streamed by one by one
going home after a day of scavenging.
I didn't know seagulls did that.