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I smell the fresh air, it’s not what I’m used to in the U.S. Gazing out at the sky and endless water I see the islands from one of my favorite spots in the world, Blueberry Point. Down below I can see the rocks and the gold, shiny fish sparkling in the sunlight. With Canadian geese overhead, and the little birds who have flashing colors below me. I stand alone where I know my ancestors did. I can feel the the damp pebbles between my toes, the grooves of the bark on my hands and back, I know this is where I belong. I feel peaceful and relaxed as the wind blows through my hair, as I hear the waves crash to shore. I look around to see flowers and moss growing on rocks of all sizes. There’s a small bridge crossing over a stream which always gave me joy. The dirt trail which brought me here, says I need to go. I leave without doubt, knowing I’d be back again.

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