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Title : Beach Stories, Back in the City. . .
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Beach Stories, Back in the City. . .

Back in the city, under a layer of the smoke that's covering our province, I'm nonetheless quite happily occupied, enjoying such aspects of city life as watching spectacular fireworks from our balcony, walking to beachside Shakespeare, cycling the very decent network of bike lanes, sweating up a storm in the condo gym each morning, and shopping the Farmers' Market Sunday mornings just down the road at Dude Chilling park.

But that doesn't mean that my thoughts don't stray, occasionally, to a broader horizon. . .

to a more natural setting that draws the eye up and outward, then down and in. . . .

The big and the small both call to the imagination against a spacious background where there's room and time to meditate on other possibilities, other rhythms. . .

These traces of other lives, the tiny stories they tell (have you read Robert Moor's fascinating On Trails: An Exploration? He makes wonderful, compelling links between trails or traces made by the simplest, earliest lifeforms and those pathways that intrepid hikers follow through the Appalachians.)

Makes me think about my trail through life, who or what I might be following, something I'm working on in the writing I've been doing, looking back through my mother. . .

The little fellow above? Whither and whence, what story does that trail tell, and what weight can it possibly hold against the deeper indentations of water on the sand, the day's tides erasing the traces like so many Buddhist monks sweeping away a beautiful mandala.

Another story here, the rope's trail from anchor to boat? (which was left by whom? when? and when will they come back for it? How patient must they be for the tide to return, how attuned to the clock?)

Questions. . . .

And observations. . . . And a tiny screen in my busy urban mind, playing in the background, giving me respite if I only close my eyes. . . .

We have a long weekend here right now. I hope some of you share that good fortune.  Even with this apocalyptic layer of smoke, I have to admit that there's something fragile and luxurious and resonant about this last month of summer, of knowing the beach days are limited, of wanting to make the most of each one.  I posted a (very) short video on Instagram last week with some thoughts about the richness, the persistence, the bittersweet quality of those layers and layers of summertime memories. You can see it here, if you're curious).

As I write this on Sunday (for Monday posting) we have our Four and our Two coming over with their parents, not sure if the Eight will be here as well, but we haven't seen these Littles for a few weeks, so our Brunch together will be a treat. What are, or have you been, up to? Summer doings? Beachtime? Trying to stay Cool? Wishing the Rain would Go Away? Wishing it would fall? Or if you're at the other side of the Equator, are you beginning to think about Spring Gear? Looking forward to summer as we're getting ready to say good-bye to it? Do tell. I always love our conversations.

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