I’m always surprised by the things I feel when I’ve had some downtime. A 4 day weekend in Southern Oregon followed by another on Salt Spring. I’ll need to make an entry regarding the Treesort but for now I’ll write about Salt Spring.

I love this place for its wildness and for the freeness I feel there. I have heard people talk about the wonder of time away with family in remote places on lakes and in the snow. I made my own time away with my two ducklings. But it wasn’t the same. I couldn’t relax because the places were new and unknown quantities kept me on my toes while I charted the course for the three of us.

Salt Spring is different. First Wonder Sweetie and I discovered much of the pleasures there together. It’s been a shared charting of courses which has been a delight. The last trip I felt like I was coming home. Even though it was without Marc, I still had a sense of homecoming.

My dear friend who owns the cabin on Salt Spring gave me the whole downstairs studio. The bath is a little less rustic than the love shack across the way. The bed is not an air mattress We chose our food from the roadside vegetable stands and cooked simply. Mostly we hiked and talked and slept. Also waded into Stowell lake in the 75 degree weather. Heaven on earth. We saw woodpeckers up close. Were careful not to smush the frogs that hopped at the water’s edge. Walked and drove by many deer that casually ignored us.

The last night before I left we walked to the pond and sat for two hours or more while the sun disappeared and the night took over. The stars came out in slow motion and circled the sky above us. A barred owl hooted loudly over head and flew from tree to tree in search of what, only it knew. The bats performed their acrobatic flights for food and a tiny deer came to the waters edge and lapped quietly.

The last thing we saw before heading in was pure Salt Spring magic dust. A shooting star that glowed like a comet before winking out. My trip would begin back to real life the next day.

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