Last night Dear One and I took our first sunset bicycle ride this spring, along the Saint Zotique bikepath. Saint Zotique, whoever you are I want you to know that I think of you as Saint Exotic: I see you with gold and red brocade carpet on which you fly between the pear tree in our back alley, and the all-day breakfast cafes on Avenue du Parc, your sceptre at the ready to command the flinging of blossoms upon our heads. Dear One and I saw a rippling double-tailed kite. The avenues were green and gold. A delicious breeze rippled over our bodies. We came home and ate the rhubarb crumble.
Saint Zoticus was an early martyr, but the street was named to honour Zotique Racicot (1845-1915), a prelate of the era. It used to be traditional in Quebec to honour people, not by naming things directly after them, but after saints that shared their name. Ile Sainte-Hélène for example was so named to honour Samuel de Champlain's young wife Hélène.