Charlevoix - A trip into the hills of quebec

Charlevoix

The old man St Lawrence snakes silently, heading north
Teasing the roads that follow its scent
Which it loses occasionally when blown off course

Nature’s fingertips are clinging on
To the waters restless side
And amongst the hills and trickled streams
Houses crouch and hide
Passers by say nothing
Nothing is angry enough to burst the silent seams

All the way from Bay St Maille right up to Tadoussac
This is a world that never left and will never be coming back
Petit Madeleine has always been the same
Which is curious and acceptable and a friendly kind of strange
Long may the valleys keep it under cover long may it never change

The lake holds tales that it will never tell
Where lives were lost when good men fell
The potters wheel still spins a face
Offering up a memory of this place

Down from the hill to drumondville
Where concrete took the trees
This one got away crawling on its knees
This one got away crawling on its knees
(C)SJ2009