I leave Montreal early, the road stretching like an endless ribbon. I drive all day, the hum of the engine through forests that seem to stretch on forever. The air is fresh, carrying the scent of pine. Suddenly, a moose steps onto the road, its massive form blocking my path. For a moment, time slows as I watch it move gracefully across the road. As I approach Stonehammer Geopark, the landscape shifts. The trees thin, and the air becomes briny and crisp. The rocks here, over a billion years old, stand like sentinels of time, shaped by wind and water. The trilobite, symbol of the Geopark, lived here 500 million years ago in ancient seas. I sit down for a meal of lobster, the salty taste lingering on my lips, before boarding a wooden boat. The sails creak as the wind fills them, and we glide across the calm water. Suddenly, a humpback whale breaches the surface, its immense body rising with grace. For a fleeting moment, everything seems to pause. The whale dives again, disappearing into the depths, and the sea returns to its quiet rhythm. We drift, carried by the waves, the horizon stretching ahead.