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The morning goal was to make snaps of the area that would fill people with envy of the place and life style. Picked up the digital headed down past the pipe house to the entrance to the East Coast Trail by the post office. I would head out toward Shoe Cove and make a panorama of Pouch. The mist was covering the cape but the town was bathed in light.

I was also going to head up the tolt – if the view cleared - to do the same, and Carl Noseworthy’s deck, and…

You’ve seen the results.

The furnace guy came while I was having coffee and said he would have a look, I said that I was going to be in and out. he said that he would be doing the same.

Pissed off at the quality of new stuff – ‘bira was made in 1975 – I walk up Main Road and down Sullivan’s Loop. Run into Russ Langmead who is coming back from his morning walk, 90 minutes behind Pouch, crossing ponds – in this weather? – and then back down to his place.

He wanted to know if later this evening I could photograph the model dory that he had just made as I have cameras and he doesn’t.

Yeah sure I should be back in about 10 minutes and I could come over then – thinking about the damned digital. You’ll have to wait for the snap though as I can only develop it back in the states.

Yes b’y no problem.

I find out that the Muir Woods of wood piles was his so I make a better snap.

Turn down Sullivan’s when Elke comes running out of her Bed and Breakfast to ask about the furnace man. Tell her that he is already working and feels bad that she wasn’t there. I tell her that it is no problem he’ll let us know what the trouble is.

I mention the condition of Martin and Gabrielle’s and she invites me in for a coffee.

She is having the dead Christmas trees brought over as her goats like to eat them. I photograph the man dragging them over on his bike.

Nice place and again completely different. The pipe house are two open rooms, Martin and Gabrielle’s is has compartmentalised spaces with windows through interior walls so that the ocean can be seen. Both places are spare. Elk’s place is intimate, the rooms small the place filled with furniture, the ceilings low. A place made when heat would have been a major concern.

We talk about M&G’s what she is going to do with the inherited land a foundation for people with cancer.

She asks if I like dogs because hers need a lot of exercise and could I take her while I am out on my walks around the area. she’ll cook me a dinner in return.

The furnace man comes over and says the furnace is dead he removed it and was wondering what they wanted – another wood furnace. Both Elke and I think it a bad idea. Now that the damp is off the place it is quite warm all they need is a better wood stove. It will take a month or so to put it in but since they are not coming until August they may want to think about waiting until they are here.

Realise that Russ is waiting I take my leave. photograph the furnace guy and start to head down the hill, when the bloke who moved the wood over started chatting with me.

I immediately said that I had to make his snap, and mentioned that now his friend in the shed was going to keep quiet. I think that he was a Langmead and had the usual discussion my origins – Ferryland 2 the colony that took – where I am staying. He knew Camilla Sullivan who was working on one of the world cruises my mum was on.

Finally the other talks and I get him then say I must run as I have to go over to Russ’s – he’s my father.

Pick up the leiquinha – forgot that I could do everything with that only a bit slower – and headed over. Russ was in his shed – he picked up the dory and wanted me to make the snap there. instead we headed to the ocean and I made two.

Was invited in to see his workshop, said hello to Shirley, was offered something to drink, pop, coffee, tea, rum? Chose a Pepsi and we sat. Russ showed me the three fingers that he cut off and were re-attached using a saw. We spoke of the area. He and Shirley have been married 50 years, that their daughter got the card but was wondering who it was from, I was already here when she got it and Shirley spilled the beans.

Have breakfast and look out to access the weather, I want to scale the tolt but it is in mist.

I head to the pipe house to see when we are heading into St. John’s for the party and the priming at the Duke before hand. A cheque from the Torontonian for the second snap she bought. She added $100 and in a post it note said it was for my bar tab at the Duke.

Buy washing up liquid at Bruce’s. Henry sees me and make a camera taking picture with his hands before he heads out.

The sky clears I get ready for the walk. It is 5C out and the temperature is rising. Head through town and out the back where once again I cannot find the path. On the way I make images or real rooms – think that most of my work comes from some belligerent trait. Finally find it and try to keep to the most important rule entering the woods, if I cannot find a path head back. People get lost and I don’t have anything to ties to trees to find my way back.

Lack of snow means that the trails are all streams. Water is racing down them. I think of giving up before I even start the climb but try walking along the sides and steer clear of the ice. The rivers stop and puddles begin. Never the less I press on but in doing so I realise that it is getting mauzy again.

Passed this rubbing on a tree where it looked like someone/thing has left its offal when passing.

Ah how different those walks are on the sanctioned trails of say Door County. They are pristine, the woods are conserved. Here 50 feet from the road woods are considered fuel. I come across lots of trunks where people have decided that it is better to keep warm than to preserve a couple of trees. It is shocking to me when I come across them but they cannot be seen from any distance and it isn’t clear cutting by any means.

My problem though is the clearings obscure the trail. I had been walking in a canopy of trees and making use of that by adding to the haven’t a clue series. I also realised that this series wasn’t going to get much play here due to the trails doubling as rivers.

The canopy meant that I couldn’t see the tolt nor Pouch. after one clearing I tried a trail a bit but after slipping in moose shite, and a pile of fur on the path, I decided to turn back.

Normally this would bother me as I have seen plan after plan disappear since being up here. I have tried to climb the tolt daily, this trail walk has squelched the idea of the series I just mentioned. After seeing Thaddeus’s work my “…” essay seems useless – not because he has already done it but because my work has too much of the human element. There is no tenuousness to my version of the province. People may make due but it isn’t a live or die type of situation. I have yet to get a tank to develop the films. I think that I have gone through barely half the amount of film that I had planned for.

I am fine with this. My failures have not come by default but by attempting and having to modify. I realise that the paths are not impassable but there is more of a nuisance factor and I have to determine how much of that I wish to deal with – wet feet at 8C is better than at 2C.

The lack of production film wise is due to the litres and litres of beverages I have had along the Main Road here. I’ll take the longer and - I hope - dryer route up when there isn’t a chance of being blown off.

I walked back quite content and on a part of town I hardly ever go found more potential snaps. Back on the Main Road I look back at the tolt which is cloud covered and it has begun to rain.

Photograph the way houses are placed on the hill east of the road when a kid comes up to me and says that he has a great view of the ocean from up by his house.

-if someone asks just day that Jonathan said it was o.k.

More woodpiles, sheds, lost toys, an attempt at the post office at dusk with the two orange light glowing.

-did you go down to my house yet? As he bikes by.
-to-morrow when there is more light.