Needless to say, it was not a weekend of kayaking, canoeing, hiking or biking. Bon Echo is gorgeous, and thankfully we had the sweetest site in the park, (thank-you kelly!), so although we didn't get about much, we certainly had primo accomodations. I had just gone out and bought 2 new Thermarests for the tent, but after waking Linda up at 3am asking to be reminded of bear-survival tips from the guide book, and after getting up probably 6 times to beam the flashlight around at real/imagined trespassers, we spent the next couple nights sleeping in the Element...
I had a dream last night- I was on the dirt-concession road where I grew up, with the air rich and sweet with the smell of hay, grasses and leaves, the dust under my feet, and the dark night. It was uncanny how it all came alive around me. My favourite tree to climb towered above me, and I looked up at it, at the full starry night sky, and I heard the wind's rustling through those leaves in the way I know so well. The deep darkness down the road beckoned me, and although I felt a tinge of fear at walking forward, I was compelled, and the night wrapped me up and held me. I exalted, breathing it in around me, filling with an epiphany of sheer being, arms raised, and circling, trying to take it all in. I awoke, humble in wonder at the experience, and Linda's arm pulled me in close to her, and we nestled into each other. These are good days.
This morning, I was driving to work on this paved country road. I saw this farmer woman walking up the incline of the hill with the strangest looking dog/dogs just ahead of her. I strained as I came up to see what kind of dog waddled like that, only to find 3 white chickens waddling along ahead of her in line, the one in lead looking particularly sure of its direction. I passed by laughing, feeling happy and alive, and thinking to myself- now Von, you've got to end up with a life like that. Er, the farmer, not the chicken.
