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It is Friday afternoon in a tavern somewhere inland of the state of Maine. As I briefly talk to the owner I notice an old travel magazine in one of the tables close to me. I decide to glance the pages and, while I wait for my beer, I find an article about something that quickly gets my attention. As it turns out, there is a place not so far from there where the biggest tides in the world take place, the Bay of Fundy. I feel completely intrigued by that statement and I ask my new friend at the bar. He tells me about things that I find hard to believe at first. He talks about boats that go from being docked at a harbor to touching the seafloor in a time span of a few hours. My face is anything but credible but fortunately he does not take it offensively and proceeds. You should go! That area is just a five hours drive from here. As I try to comprehend American distances and the idea of ‘just’ a five hour drive, my mind is already on the go. It is summer, so I still have some daylight time to enjoy the scenery. The decision is made then. I embark towards a place that does not typically gain too much attention. Ultimately, it will be up to me to decide if that is a fair consequence of its lack of spirit or if, once again, the world has been hiding one of those treasures that make us travelers. As I cruise the marvelous Maine with its green landscape and its remote farms, I cannot help to think about mystical legends and John Irving novels. New England presents itself to those that are avid of poetry, history and a sensitivity for nature. I cross to Canada, it is dark now but someone suddenly makes a presence. There, right in front of me, flanking my journey, is the Moon. The biggest one my eyes have seen, a plethoric and spectacular entity that illuminates the highway as a sign of respect for the new guest in her domains. I feel immediately at peace, and know deep inside that I made the right decision. I arrive to Saint John and I breathe melancholy thanks to a city that feels like home. A mixture of the friendliness architecture of an old European town and the attractiveness of the urban new world. I am tired but I cannot miss the opportunity to take a stroll along the harbor and around its tidy public spaces. Everything looks infused by a kind spirit that overlooks the whole area. The next morning I get back to the road towards the tiny town of Alma, which really pays homage to its name, the Spanish word for soul. Before I leave, I stop to contemplate the captivating and dramatic beauty of the Bay of Fundy. In one side, Saint John, acting as its protector, benefiting from its tremendous power, and on the other, the enigmatic Nova Scotia. I continue and I keep seeing different sides of it. I feel more and more the inspiration that the Moon imparted on me the night before. At my arrival in Alma, I enjoy fresh seafood while I see the fishing ships docked at the small harbor. Although I was skeptical at first, the place has conquered me, I now know the big tides are real and I just cannot wait to see them acting. I decide to go to an adjacent beach to observe the magical phenomenon as close as possible. Soon it is happening, the fascinating machinery of nature starts the show. Slowly but surely the water starts to retract towards the middle of the Bay. I feel an indescriptible energy, something that is bigger than us, the lunar influence. It presents itself with a tremendous force but also with a humble intrinsic nature. After a few hours, its effects are breathtaking as the seabed is completely uncovered to the point of seeing entire rocks and formations. As I walk around what it was before the ocean, I feel extremely fortunate, that was Moon’s refuge on Earth and I was welcome there.