It’s surreal that we’ve been coming together at Cusheon Lake for ten years now. A decade of swimming, markets, games and puzzles, snacks and family dinners, books and comics, canoes and floaties, and generally trying to fit more fun into a few days than is physically possible. A lot of those things have become a routine (we remind our time-travelling selves that you’ll find us on the same grassy knoll in Ganges every year, the Saturday before labour day at noon). But that vacation autopilot really allows us to revel in each others’ company and reflect together on another year behind us, a decade behind us, the decades that lay ahead. Compare temperatures of the lake water year-to-year as we compare our changing roles in the world. The market vendors who have come and gone reminding us of the relationships we’ve grown or moved on from. These few days we have together each year (among the dozens of other things we inseparably join in together, as seen here) are breadcrumbs through more than a decade of memories.
Sunday 18 – Quick trailer trip to Weir’s Beach in Metchosin for the weekend. The surf was black with murk when we arrived and after the rainstorm through the night it had settled into a bay full of deep seaweed. From a distance it was like a beautifully groomed lawn. But stepping into it revealed a texture exactly like boiled spinach that nearly spilled over the top of my boots.
RV parks in the shoulder season are fascinating places.
Autumn is here. Less adventures, more walks around the city. Trend report: outside is still very in.
Wrapped up September mostly at home. Lots of TV and takeout. Finding some balance.
