I Crossed Back Into a State of Denial
At the Canada-U.S. border, I encountered a study in contrasts.
Updated at 3:52 p.m. ET on September 6, 2020.
On the Fourth of July, I drove across the border from the United States into Canada. Two months later, I drove the other way. Both times, I crossed at the same point: just east of Lake Ontario, amid the Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence River. Both times, I was driving a rented U-Haul, carrying household effects I was swapping between city and vacation house. And there the similarities stopped.
When I entered Canada, the single official I encountered wore a high-quality face mask.
