I love lighthouses. They’re small, often all curves and colors. Do they really serve as landmarks for sailors? I think they’re more useful to seals or whales—and even more so to birds, which make them their favorite meet-up spots. Either way, they have a wonderfully easygoing look that I love.
I love houses. Not just any houses: the ones decked out like Christmas trees all year round. Usually, they’re spruced up, looking just as cheerful under snow as they do covered in flowers and little figurines on the lawn, always decorated with those strings of lights wrapped around them. Is it true they help lost travelers find their way during a snowstorm? And in summer? Is it just for looks? Either way, they have a totally kitschy vibe that delights me.
I love roads. The ones that hide in endless forests, the ones that play hide-and-seek with rivers, the ones so straight you can see forever, the ones that go up and down like a rollercoaster, the ones that burst with autumn colors, that sparkle under the snow, that vanish into the fog, the ones that cross villages, that cross meadows, that run along the shores of the St. Lawrence. I love lonely roads, peaceful roads, the ones where you drive while listening to Janis Joplin and Tom Waits… What if we just kept going? Always farther, never stopping…
But I also love the people! The people with big smiles and laughing eyes. The people who come up to us as soon as they hear our accent. And who talk—sometimes so fast and with words we don’t know that it takes a while to understand. And then there’s that kindness in a café or a shop: “Hello there, sweetheart, what can I get you?” “Welcome, if you need help, just call me,” and so on… I love it, yes, I love it. I struggle *so* much with the Québécois accent (laugh), but I figured out a trick: you have to open your mouth wide and twist your lips a little, and it works pretty well! Laugh again… I love you, my Québécois friends…












