Islander

I tootled off to Toronto Island yesterday, with a backpack containing two of Jody’s books.  I had a destination.  It’s a little kiosk on Algonquin Island, where you can take a book, leave a book.  So cool.

I sat on a bench nearby and wrote:

Dear Algonquin Island reader,

I hope you take a copy of Jody’s and my book from the Algonquin Island library.  It’s a love story.

Thank you for accompanying us on our journey.

Be well,

Bruce

Gosh, I felt good slipping the two volumes between other creations.  A day later, do they still sit there or is each one now residing on someone’s end table?  It doesn’t matter.  I know they’ll find their way into human hearts.

All pleased with myself, I decided to explore Snake Island, a tiny little thing joined to the main by a walking bridge.  No cutesy homes on Snake, just nature.

As I plopped my feet down onto a new world, I thought of my pocket.  Inside was a plastic bag, perfect for anti-littering.  I so much enjoy picking up garbage and removing it from the paths of life.  I drifted down the trail, seeing this and that in the realm of manmade objects.  They got stuffed.  For awhile I was 100%, but as my bag filled as well as a discarded fabric cooler, my leaning over quotient started to max out.  There were just so many “things”.  Finally, I declared completion.  The rest of the little buggers will just have to sit there until the next explorer comes along.  Back over the bridge from Snake, there sat a black garbage can.  Cha-ching!

A notice board drew me.  And there it was … my next adventure.  There’s one church on Toronto Island, and on Sunday, November 20 it’s hosting first a brunch and second a concert, featuring a folk music duo.  I’ll be mellowing out on the carless island, just like a local.  Sweet.

Library , litter and lyrics.  I’m there.

 

 

 

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