This is one of my favorite stretches of road heading off my peninsula and back towards civilization. It’s a point of nostalgia. Leaving, I say goodbye to our bay, to the church and its baked-bean-supper sign, to the little red cottage and the elm tree I hope will live forever. On the return trip, this is where I open the windows to get a big breath of home. Funny how the very same spot can evoke such different feelings depending on which way you’re headed.