At the right angle of a sharp crisp edge, I search for clarity and find myself lost in the too-brightly-coloured thought of sensible words. It is at that precise moment I realize I am in need of a vacation from my rigidly organized, scheduled time to break open the tartness of an apple bite.
Before I married my husband, I used to actually schedule my vacation time with wild booking adventures and creative itineraries folded neatly in colour-coded folders with lovely tickets, receipts and maps and things in little pockets. Every vacation was an exhausting well-thought-out rush from here to there and back, with barely time to breathe in a quiet thought. There were whale watching treks and rain forest drenchings interspersed with bug zoo visits and mountain hikes; there were pothole swims in crystal clear waters and white water rafting over raging river laughs. I always came home tired and in need of a vacation.
I can be a somewhat crazed organized doer. On the other hand, my husband is all about the relaxing comfort of random chance and going with the flow. We compromise. Usually. Sometimes, the vacations are well-oiled machines where we would pack in as much as possible. And sometimes, the vacations are more of a “let’s see what happens once we’re there” affair.
At the beginning of February, my husband and I headed off to our yearly, week-long west coast escape from the snow and frozen air. This year, we went to Crescent Beach, located a good 40-minute drive south of Vancouver, British Columbia. We arrived to spring’s hello with crocuses peeking their heads out of the earth and cherry blossoms winking brightly. We breathed in green and I instantly felt my shoulders relax as the salt-filled air swirled around me.
In typical fashion, I had packed too many cameras and a suitcase filled with books, journals and art supplies. In a move very unlike me, I did absolutely nothing. It bears repeating. I did absolutely nothing! I wandered with no pattern beyond the quiet rhythm of the ocean. I ate when I was hungry, drank red wine during fireside chats and dozed in the afternoon light. I took some photos randomly, here and there.
In all honesty, I really couldn’t tell you what we did beyond the fuzzy breath of long walks on the beach, bright green sea glass filling damp pockets already crumpled with the worn soft-muted whites of seashells. Drowsy eyes watched the fire crackle into flame as light rain splattered the glass above our dreaming heads. I can tell you that I came home fully refreshed to the welcoming world of my life.
At the left curve of a soft round felt, I find the clarity of myself within the muted hued thought of nonsensical words. It is in those long drawn out soft moments that I realize I am ready to live fully in the moments of my life again, the lingering scent of the sweetness of an apple still fresh on my tongue.
Photo Credits
“Clarity” © Darlene J Kreutzer
suvarna says
Oh yes, here’s to nothingness and the sweet nectar of time passing while we remain still.
xo
Sarah Gignac says
Red wine and beaches and fires. Sounds like my kind of vacation 🙂