a return to the mood

And yet life goes on.

In June we had a short visit to Montreal, packing in the usual sights and flavours, tempered by the heat and our own waning energy levels. We took great advantage of the hotel's pool, swimming a joy I never tire of, encouraging Sora to get more comfortable in the water. I didn't have much opportunity to pick out my old haunts but I could see that the city has grown since my days there, shimmering halcyon days full of youth and opportunity. Indeed every moment on the streets would bring waves of memories, of friends faded or forgotten, my head lost and spinning and trying to breathe it all in again. Obviously very different now but seeing it anew through Sora's eyes gave some fresh pleasure.

We made the trip to the recently updated Biosphere, probably the highlight of the trip, the biomes living up to their names. My heart shatters at the thought of our poor Ontario Science Centre being stripped of its wares, each precious exhibit cast out, the unique, memory-laden architecture ground into dust.

July saw us spend a week at a cottage with friends -- barbecues, kayaking on the lake, breathing in the night air by a smoky fire. I find the preparation and driving to the cottage to be real pains but the time there is sublime, the only concern being the next meal, a pause from the chores and grind of daily adult life.

In August we visited MJ's family in Saskatoon where her father had recently moved into a residence for seniors. MJ and Sora had a little girls-night camping trip that gave me an evening to myself which I spent jogging around the University of Saskatoon's campus, grounds mostly empty apart from some groundhogs and geese. Indeed that is one of the things I miss -- time to exercise, to really sweat and push myself to my limit, an admittedly meagre limit. I want to slow time's sanding away of my edges but I've only so many opportunities.

The next day I went on a hike with MJ's dad in the Beaver Creek Conservation Area, our chosen trail covering a varied amount of terrains, bringing to my mind journeys in another age. One perk were the tame chickadees, who would fly down to pick a seed out of your hand -- fluttering, nervous little wings, fragile, precious things. Interacting with animals is a simple joy I never tire of.

That's enough for tonight. But I haven't forgotten you, and will write again soon.