O, Canada!

O, Canada! How do I love you? Let me count the ways.

I love the way your cars travel in placidly parallel lanes, staying obediently between the dotted lines, graciously allowing each and every vehicle its own personal space. I love how I can always tell with reasonable certainty whether it’s safe to enter your blessedly perpendicular intersections;  I love how I can see your traffic lights no matter where I am, and people wave at me to say, “Please, you go first. I’d rather wait.” I love it that I have been here for thirteen days now and I haven’t heard a single honking horn or shrieking whistle. I love how your cyclists get their very own lanes, your signs tell everyone to share the road, and people are happy to take turns. O, Canada, I love your pretty roads.

How else do I love you, Canada? I love the way I can walk from this place to that place without being ogled or harassed. I love it that people aren’t always trying to trick or take advantage of me. You say what you mean, Canada. You offer to help people without expecting coinage in return. You post your signs and read your news in languages I understand. You welcome people in crisis. You say nice things. You follow the rules. And your rules make sense.

I love you, Canada, for the people you cradle. You hold my family and my dearest friends. You fill my life with interesting comrades, with whom I sing, work, play, and feast. I love it that my neighbours wear Blue Jays jerseys as they watch the baseball game, and that my confidantes give me tea and freshly-picked strawberries. I love it that my students leap off of their favourite tire swing and run squealing into my arms when I wander onto their playground. I love it that no matter where I go, I have a room of my own in the homes of the people who missed me while I was gone.

What else, O Canada? I love it that there are many ways to live a life in this open-hearted land. One can live here or there, with this person or that person or no person at all, this way or that way, and it’s all okay. One can think independent thoughts. You do not expect your citizens to conform to the mold you prescribe. You are a nation of ideas, exploration, expression, acceptance. You, O Canada, welcome each of us as we are, and celebrate our many-coloured ways.

Canada, you are an easy companion with whom to walk through life. Your infrastructure supports mobility and movement. It’s not so hard to get from here to there, and run five errands on the way. People smile and make friendly conversation on the sidewalk, and say “please” and “thank-you” and “excuse me.”

And Canada, you are tended. Your streets are clean and safe. Your people look after you. They care about the land, and do what they can to preserve it. Your papers and plastics are repurposed. Your kitchen scraps return to the earth. Your water is pure and precious. Your mountains are majestic and your fields and forests are sweet and green. You are so very beautiful.

O Canada, I know that you are not the only lovely nation in this world. I know that there are thousands and thousands of other places on this great planet that are beautiful, welcoming, wide-open spaces, full of love and friendship and courtesy. But I love it, Canada, that I can always come back to you. You birthed me, and you will always be here to receive me after my wanderings. You do not fault me for going; you simply wait, red and white and whispering, for me to come back home.

O, Canada, how do I love you? Let me count the many, many ways.