I haven’t been feeling well lately which has been compounded by a torrential four day downpour here in southwest BC. It was grey and cold with a steady rain. I actually like grey, rainy days but it’s a bit early in the season for me.
So I wore the same pair of yoga pants for three days.
This morning, the sun broke through and next thing we knew, the sky was clear as a bell, blue in that mid-September way. It is warm and we were all itching for the sun on our hair.
We threw some food in a bag and drove to one of my favourite places to be: Cultus Lake. We don’t usually hang out at the main beach. We go into the provincial park and find the quieter shores or we hike up a hill.
I am not an ocean girl by birthright. After all, I grew up in the prairies and the foothills. I love the ocean but it’s a new relationship. By heart, I am a lake rat, a kid that grew up jumping in Last Mountain lake as soon as the ice was off on Victoria Day long weekend, the kid that could water ski sooner than I could ride a bike and there are pictures of me, strapped in the car seat in the boat, just four months old and not-quite-ten driving the boat, all skinny brown legs and arms covered with mosquito bites (my mother is always close by in these photos, her teeny-tiny barely-there bikinis now legendary). My husband knows this about me – knows that nothing puts a sparkle in my eye or makes my heart so happy as the lake – so we spend time here, as a family, often.
There is something about being near a lake with a rocky bottom surrounded by pine trees that just makes my soul exhale. Cold lake water, the sound of the shore, the sway and creak of the pier and enough time left over to waste a bit of it on the beach is my place of rest.
I sat back and just let the tinies play. No need to referee when you’re at the lake, is there? No one squabbles or hits, no one gets their feelings hurt.
They threw rocks into the water for nearly an hour. They drew in the sand. They searched for rocks, feathers, bits of trees.We stick our hands in the cold water and it’s a full time job to keep Joe from charging right into the water, shoes and socks on.
When we were leaving, we saw someone had dropped a yellow rose on the beach.
It’s impossible to miss that bright yellow beauty in the midst of all the rocks and sand and brown, isn’t it?