An early May day, I was driving through the La Peche area along highway 366. The early morning tranquility was mesmerizing in the cool air. Suddenly my car was traveling on unpaved road. The soft sand and small stones reminds me of my childhood in the countryside. The forest seems to welcome me into a wonderland. I am confused. How come a highway can be unpaved in Canada? I drove along, there was no one. After a few kilometers, I saw a farmer working on his land. I stopped, with my newly acquired French, and eagerly asked, "Vous parlez anglais, monsieur?" His name is Mark. He worked in Ottawa, lost his job and moved to Lac-des-Loups. We talked and talked. He told me he just killed a fox or coyote the day before to protect his animals. He is happy with his life and enjoys what nature gives to him. I said "au revoir" and wondered ever since. What I am looking for thousands of miles away from my hometown all these years? I will go back to see him some time. By the way, he said "nihao".