This magic moment, I tried to get him back before my eyes several times, but it still eludes me. I only have only fragments, like the strange dream that tries to relive the morning.
was a July 17, around 20:30.
We returned slowly to the island of Orleans and had taken the path of Priests, a side road that goes from St. Lawrence in St. Peter. A road that looks like the Route du Mitan a little farther east, but shorter and a little less spectacular.
And there, down to St. Peter, we've seen this show. We stopped to see better what was happening, like many other people in the rest. The sky was overcast. We saw the sun for a brief moment, on the side of Côte de Beaupré: a round disc, perfectly cut above the mountains, but dull, muffled rays in the clouds. But even once gone, the sun continued to illuminate a broad band of diffuse light horizon orange. This is especially the light that was extraordinary. A true landscape of Apocalypse that some were even terrifying. Above this band of opaque clouds with purple fringe. Of distant lightning added to the scene of the Last Judgement. A grim scenery, but beautiful. We took in the hope of seeing God and eternal judge.
the other side of the road, young girls were playing soccer on a playground Without knowing why, I plunged into this atmosphere a vague past that escaped me, feeling more than memories, memories blur which I had left was the smell. I wanted to freeze this moment. I felt good. As if time no longer existed. As if I was transported into another world. As if I returned to my childhood days when life was eternal. As if heaven was at hand. As if ... I do not know.
We came back in the pouring rain but strangely soul in peace. I had the impression of having experienced an episode of Alice in Wonderland.
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