PEI was a tangential detour, and now I am queueing for the ferry to Nova Scotia. My next destination is Cape Breton.
Last night I was invited to a pig roast held at a farm located somewhere in the “deep country.” It’s an area far inland, with wooded hills, and pastured livestock. A local band played for tips and free beer on the backporch, and the guests erected tents and laid on the grass. At night, when all the kids went to bed, the bonfire was stoked and joints were rolled. Most of the attendees were from PEI’s creative community. One guest described them endearingly as a bunch of hippies.
I didn’t make many photos. My camera felt like a foreign object there. I only saw one person use a smartphone, but only once, and no one took pictures or sent texts. I felt like if I, and outsider to this tight-knit community walked about waving my camera, it’s spoil the energy. There is a time to make photos and a time to just sit on the grass by the fire and enjoy the experience.