My home for a large chunk of my time here in Canuckistan has been a travel trailer – otherwise known as an RV, a camper or a tin can. But over the August long weekend I was evicted by its owners, who took it and themselves to a lake not far from here.
Said lake holds many memories for me. I decided to join them for the day to add to those.
But as I lie here in my mobile home perched on concrete blocks now, with temperatures dropping to the low negatives every night, I realize that I never blogged any photos from the lake. And this seems like the perfect time to rectify that – remembering the warmth of both the weather and the people.
One little lass took a particular shine to me. I suppose it’s because I noticed that she existed, and took a few photos of her riding her bicycle. I would be sitting at the water’s edge, just enjoying the peace, when out of the blue a tiny voice would be at my left shoulder regaling me with stories of when she went horse riding, and how she could also ride an inflatable seahorse and that she was more proficient (although she didn’t use that word exactly) on her bicycle than any of the horses.
And I would answer, “uh huh,” and “really?” and “well I never!” and then she would take off on new adventures, only to return just as I was getting lost in my thoughts to ask if I had noticed her beating the boys at rock throwing and sand castle building.
Another time I found her sobbing profoundly at the water’s edge because one of the brash bully boys had tipped her head-first off the water-horse or unicorn. But once I had assured her all would be okay, I propped her back on the water beast. Just like when the sun breaks out after a thunderstorm – the air fresh, the sky shimmering and the sun glowing and smiling with the most brilliant of beams – so was her face …
Often in life I have tried to hold on to relationships and people that were always going to be transient. Now I’m learning to let them go but to hold onto the memories – both the happy and the sad.