The rains fell heavily last night. Grumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning lit the skies.
It’s quiet now. As gentle streaks of sunshine peek shyly through forlorn clouds.
I am in a small Québécois village west of Montreal. My training run is done and all is right with the world.
Sitting in a quaint 3 room B&B where I stayed the night restfully I am seated tout seul in a country dining room. The soft dulcet strands of Francophone chanteuse Monica Freire play off in the background as I indulge in a moment of blissful solitude.
Church bells ring sonorously to signal the hour as I gaze through the window and off into the distance allowing my mind to freely amble about.
Earlier as I ran through the village and into the neighbouring town I was taken in by the coastal river views to the south and the Gatineau mountains stretching skyward to the north. Though humid, I was carried by the peaceful environs and gentle breeze.
I leave soon. But it’s been a beautiful stay. A grateful respite amid a hectic summer.