Currently there's over two inches of snow covering the ground outside the Dread 'n' Breakfast here in Columbus, Ohio.  I've spent the day sipping coffee and writing, doing the pen to paper updating of the journey, relaxing from several days of drifting and wandering through the North-East.  Sitting in this warm sanctuary seems at this moment to be a confirmation that The Drift is never random, never chance, never luck.

Noemie and I left Boston with our clothes full of sage smoke, and our hearts full of love for the people and the place that had been our home for the past several months.  The day had been full of tiny missions and delays (as always), so when we arrived in Portland, Maine to find all the coffeeshops closed, we began the search for The parking space.  After almost an hour of searching for a park or friendly, darkened street, we ended up parking near a fairly large intersection on Forest Street.

We awoke the next morning to find the day had begun all around us.  We shook off the webs of sleep and managed to find our way to a funky cafe in Old Portland called Breaking New Grounds.  The staff was friendly, warm, and they gave us free refills on our coffee.  After four stout cups, I slipped them my last copy of Eating the Flowers, and we hopped back into the Dream Machine to ride off into the day.

On our way out of Portland, we saw a road that led to a small island and decided to check it out.  This turned out to be Mackworth Island. The guy at the gate told us there was a trail around the island and gave us a guidebook.  We walked down to the beach and held council before the setting sun.  Coming up from the beach, we were greeted by a simple labyrinth formed by a black gravel trail over white gravel.  We walked the path and gave thanks before returning to the van and warmth.  The rest of the day was spent rolling slowly through the New England towns on Route 1.  We parked in the empty parking lot of Camden Hills State Park.  The sky was filled with more stars than I can remember seeing.

We rose early the next day, continuing our relaxed flow into Maine, stopping at the Northport Diner for coffee and writing time.  When we arrived in Ellsworth, we needed to find internet access so as to possibly arrange a rendez-vous with Noemie's cousin, who is staying in Quebec.  We headed North to Bangor instead of going South to Acadia National Park.  Bangor turned up no matrix access points, but it did begin to snow while we were searching. After trying Augusta with no results, we referenced the maps and decided Montpelier, Vermont was our best bet.  We began the drive, taking our time due to the snow.  It let up fairly early on, and we made it to planned campsite without any problems.  This campsite was the turnaround next to a closed road that led into the White Mountains.  We went to sleep with the sound of the river in our ears.

It seemed the sacred drift had given way to another phase.  The traveller's now had a mission and with the very real possibility of dangerous weather following their movements, they knew it would take their complete awareness to prevail.  The road was calling them to movement, and there is no resisting that call...

We are in St. Johnsbury, Vermont.  We have been keeping our eyes out for internet access since last night in Bangor, Maine.  No luck, until we arrived here.  There are high ceilings, and beautiful woodwork throughout the building.  We just viewed the art gallery which is filled with incredible paintings that were acquired mostly before 1875.  Synchronicity and magic.  Spent last night in White Mountain Park at the end of a closed road.  Snow and a loud river right next to us.  Life is shining.  Love and peace to you all.