Reflection.

I sit out on the deck of our little cottage, looking out over the lake. I’m not doing anything in particular, except looking at the water and sitting, and being quiet, taking the occasional sip of cider from its pony-necked clear bottle. I look down toward the small man-made beach, and decide that it would feel good to put my toes in that water, and to feel that gritty sand beneath my bare feet.

I catch a glimpse of Graham out of the corner of my eye as I head down the steps, and see that he’s crashed out on the couch inside the cottage, dozing off after a long day of driving through the countryside and dreaming the dream of possibilities as we peer at houses in small provincial towns.

“It’s just like we’re at home,” I think to myself and smile as I head down.

The wind is blowing strong, and my skirt blows around my legs, allowing a refreshing cushion of air around the skin beneath. My hair whips free around my head and the wind feels refreshing. I stand in the sand and look out across the water, and feel free, feel the freedom of knowing there is no other place I need to be at this moment, there is no one expecting anything of me right now, except exactly what I am doing.

I look down the lake and see another, future version of myself kneeling down next to a little girl, helping her with her small pail and shovel, keeping her safe from the rippling water. In that spark of imagination, I can see that there will be a day when I am needed by others, when their expectations will be great, but in that moment I feel a great flash of hopefulness, a pang of excitement and a slow smile spreads across my face and I know that this is where I am meant to be.

(In other words, our holiday was fantastic. I’ll post a few photos soon! In the meantime, please check out my latest post at BlogHers ACT Canada, The 100 Mile Diet and My “not-so-local” Breakfast.)

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