Tiny. Such as cute name for a township.
After visiting Barrie and Balm Beach, we kept on driving along the coast of the Georgian Bay. Cottages were neatly lined-up in rows on both sides of Tiny Beaches Road, most of them either for rent or for sale. Maintaining such large properties isn’t a priority when the economy is bad I guess.
I grew up by the Atlantic Ocean and I’m a sea person. I rarely swim in lakes—I’m not sure why, but I don’t trust still waters. A lot of lakes are murky to muddy and it makes me feel uneasy. Maybe I watched too many monster movies.
But standing on the lakeshore, wind blowing in my hair and producing whitecaps on the lake, the horizon just a flat line in the distance, I felt like I was at the seaside. Only the heady iodine smell of seaweeds was missing.
We eventually stopped on Mountain View Beach, under a very stormy sky. It was still hot and humid and a few kids were playing in the water but the beach was mostly empty. It felt as if a monster had suddenly come out of the water to scare everyone away: beach toys were scattered here and there and plastic chairs arranged around sand castles were about to be blown away by the wind.
It was just strange to walk on the beach where all the summer fun had been abandoned, symbolized by still lifes left behind.
Summer is over I guess.
You can see the complete set of Ontario Travels here.