Edmonton to Toronto
We woke up at 4 AM in Edmonton. That time of the day always reminds me of one of the most beautiful talks, the Museum of 4 in the Morning. We were driven to the airport by a man named Faisal who’d lost his job due to the oil recession a year ago.
We parted ways with our friend Ruth and hopped on the plane just as they were making the final boarding call. Cutting it close.
We had a 12 hour layover in Toronto and spent the time using what we suspect might be the last time we’ve got high-speed internet for a little while. We also finishing packing 14 tiny boxes worth of supplies filled with journals, energy bars, electrolytes, 35mm film, and a few other knick-knacks. (We’ve got a lot of knick-knacks and before too long, they might make an appearance over the side of cliffs/highways/fences.)
We walked around the arboretum right beside my sister’s residence which is where we’d decided to spend our layover. She’s the middleman/middlewoman between getting our boxes shipped out to us across the country over the next six months.
Martin Buber wrote:
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
We’re thrilled (and at least for the first part, chilled) to find out.