Every place has it's hidden treasure. Whether it's a special park, a look out, a museum or a fleeting thing like northern lights, those who live there value the spaces and places and wonder why everyone else doesn't know about them. Well, I found one today. I've driven by the old wooden sign on the Rattenbury Road in central PEI that says, "Devil's Punchbowl" lots of times and never bothered to drive in. I'm so glad I didn't drive by yet again today.
I aimlessly headed down one of the many trails and was greeted with that ever-unique scent of a forest allowed to be itself without intervention. You know that freshness, but dankness that fills you up and makes you take deeper, slower breaths. And it wasn't just my sense of smell that was piqued; my eyes filled up on the greenness of the lush mosses, the texture of yellow birch's bark; my ears were alive with the sounds of song birds and trickling brooks; my fingers tickled by the prickly spruce needles, the damp softness of moss. I even chewed on a fir needle at one point, letting myself dream of Christmas for a second.
As I was quietly taking it all in, I began to wonder if I could reap some bounty from this precious place; fiddleheads. But alas, either I was too early, too late or didn't know what I was looking for. I found a few varieties of fern that I know were NOT the ostrich fern (the yummy ones), but like searching for mayflowers with my dad, maybe I "couldn't see for looking".
This is just a taste of what the Devil's Punchbowl has to offer in this too-fast, fossil fuel based world. More pictures and history to follow.