blog photo 78 French RiverWHAT IT IS

Samantha, like many others, spent a week or more combing over Beaver County looking for Cricket and Sapphire. A phone call from search and rescue in Ontario, Canada would divert her from Pennsylvania to the Chapleau Game Preserve where a woman living in the area was reported missing.

Will had opened the barn door and was admiring the Beaver aircraft when Samantha drove up with the fuel hose she’d been waiting for. It was a simple task, five minutes at best, but when she went to connect the hose there was already a new one in place.

Samantha looked sternly at Will, four years ago it was the oil separator, then an elevated jack screw, and last year a housing bearing…all mysteriously fixed by a farm mechanic who insisted he knew nothing about airplanes.

Samantha had no time and no inclination to grill her father, so she simply let Will hook up the tractor to the plane and tow it to the runway. Within thirty minutes Samantha was airborne, heading for the Canadian wilderness.


Miles Hobbson sat in the comfortable leather chair, his eyes fixed but not focused on a small white envelope in the middle of his large walnut desk. It would be his first official letter opening since becoming the mayor of Beaver Falls.

He picked up the envelope, shuffled it back and forth in his hand, listening to the single page inside slide from one end of the envelope to the other. The contents of the letter were brief. Drake Johnstone, Beaver Falls counsellor was resigning his seat immediately and taking up residence on the mighty Temagami River in Northern Ontario, Canada.


Author: whatitiswhatitisnot

Member of Camerauthor, a cooperative that writes on the blog What It Is/What It is not. Our membership includes a fantasy writer, a general fiction writer (Ellie) and two amateur photographers. All photos on the blog belong to Camerauthor.

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