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Since I was in Dauphin today to super­vise a judo grad­ing, I took the long way home, swing­ing by my old home town, Ste. Rose du Lac.

It’s been a few years since I was in town. I did­n’t know what I should expect: would I feel all the feel­ings? Have I been away long enough that I would be dispassionate?

Turned out to be door num­ber 2, most­ly. I snapped a pho­to of our old house—I haven’t lived in it for, what, 30 years?—and most­ly I was a) sur­prised by the addi­tion of a chim­ney to the side of the house and b) impressed at how many vehi­cles fit in the ol’ driveway.

The town’s famous grot­to, which I had intend­ed to pho­to­graph, looks like it’s under construction—scaffolding everywhere—so I did­n’t both­er with pictures.

I stopped in briefly at École Lau­ri­er, where I learned français, and got a weird hit of nos­tal­gia look­ing at the play­ground. I’m like 75% sure that the mon­key bars there are the same ones a friend fell from in grade 2, break­ing his arm.

I stopped just out­side Lau­ri­er and snapped the 19 images that make up the head­er image, a panoram­ic view of Rid­ing Mountain.