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Ontario is bordered by the Canadian provinces of Manitoba to the west and Quebec to the east, and five U.S. states: Minnesota, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York to the south and east. Most of Ontario's 2,700 km long border with the United States runs along water, in the west the Lake of the Woods and eastward to the Great Lakes drainage system: Superior, St. Marys River, Huron, St. Clair River, Lake St. Clair, Erie, Ontario and then runs along the St. Lawrence River from near Kingston to near Cornwall. The province contains over 250,000 freshwater lakes. [1]

The heady sent of pine needles rises in the warming air of the day. Snow lies on the ground in a light dusting in places and in others deep drifts. The only animal that stirs is a small Eastern Grey squirrel that scampers between the tree trunks searching for food. The animal dislodges snow as it goes causing mini snow storms to fall from the trees low slung bows. The cold sun is rising slowly behind the many spiky trees against a pale wintery sky. Deep channels had been made by a person who was visible in the distance.

My face was red with the cold and all extremities were chilled through, I pulled off one of my thick winter gloves to let my fingers brush the brought bark of a close tree, I had a pleasing feeling to it. I pulled down my hood to get a better look of the area; snow fell from a branch and leaned in my raven hair, melted and then dripped slowly down my neck. The place was silent; it was a very damp and saturated silence that pressed in tight. I came to a fallen tree and seated myself comfortably in a fork branch. The steam from my breath rose and created little clouds that slowly disappeared. I breathed in deeply letting the crisp air saturate my lungs and reach to all of my body; it’s sent a chill down my spine. Movement caught my eye, a small squirrel was scampering between the trees and leaping between them, the curious animal came close and circled me, but then the wind changed and he darted off up a nearby tree. The new breeze stirred the smell of the pine and the fresh snow. I knew that this would be a place of release; I would let my baggage off her and never turn back.


I had ended it with Emma, it was difficult but she was pressing for an engagement and I was not going to give her one, we were not made for each other. I came to Canada for a while to escape her and the whole world. I had set out for this place early in the morning, with the advice of a local and my wand and essentials. Being out in the wilderness put everything into perspective and made Emma a small problem. Ontario was charming in small ways, the way the locals greet you in the morning and all the mysteries of the snow that fell.

I could have stayed for longer but I was beginning to get cold, I pulled my hat and gloves back on. I turned to go away, and then I remembered something. I pulled off a glove and drew out my wand; all though I would never comeback hear I wanted to leave something to signify my unloading. I went back to the tree that I had sat on and wrote with my wand.

Its over



I would never forget this place but I’m sure that I will never come back; too much baggage was let off.

I pulled a lump of bark of the tree and stuffed it into my pocket, when I got home I would burn it, It would be a release, my sister would come round and ask why I had a small burn hole in my carpet. I would never come back and I would leave this place in the evening back to the melancholic weather of Britain and back to nagging families and ex-girlfriends.

My life sounded so bad, but I would get on with it, I had the quidditch season to look forward to.


 AN thank you, umm I don’t know who too though

[1] From Wikipedia, not mine and don’t want to own it.

Apologies to any Canadians who lives in Ontario or anyone who has ever been there, I probably haven’t made the place anything like it.

 Let me know what you think


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