My best friends treated me to a trip to Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park before I moved away from my beautiful homeland, Alberta. Grade eleven was complete and summer was in bloom. The mountains were a sharp deep green and much like a cupcake they were topped with fluffy arctic white goodness. First we stopped at the Prince of Whales hotel. We admired my father's handy work from years before when he was employed to repair the hotels railings. We talked about the myths and ghost stories that were born from the hotel and of rumors about students from our high school climbing the near by water tower at 2 in the morning. We moved to the edge of the cliff on which the hotel proud sits and took pictures of us and our glorious surroundings. The park below invited us to indulge in its wonders and so we went. Seeing white tailed deer roaming free down the towns quaint streets was as common as the sun rising and setting each day. They were friendly creatures who blessed the town with their magical presence. Tradition lead us to Cameron falls. We reminisced about the year 2010 when Cameron falls gusted red water. The normally crystal water transformed into what looked like a thick river of tomato soup. We took group pictures in front of the falls and then moseyed over to Cameron lake. The beach contains millions of perfectly formed skipping rocks. Standing on the stony shore I knew that Alberta would forever be my home. My country is truly strong and free. Oh Canada.