Mountain Angel

The wide open Powerline trail along the base of Grouse Mountain is a favourite of mine.  While walking in the sunshine with my husband there this morning, I made a startling connection.  Last Sunday morning, he and I had walked along this same popular trail.  That day, we had ventured a little further than usual, and then, my husband suggested we return to the car via a narrow, less travelled route through the forest, one we had never taken.  Since we were without any safety provisions, I replied I wasn't interested in taking the chance of getting lost without any gear.  I then announced, "That's all we need is for Tim Jones to have to come and find us." Tim Jones, North Shore Search and Rescue leader, as well as high school classmate of ours.  Well, we turned around and headed back along the main trail.  Later, we found out that Tim had died that evening while walking down the trail of a neighbouring mountain.  Within hours of me pronouncing those words, ones I had never before spoken, Tim, a hero in the truest sense of the word, was gone.  Uncanny.  RIP Tim, our mountain angel.

Taking Flight

Spending the day at the cabin alone.  Finishing up some chores.  Then relaxing in the sun.  Basking in the loving energy of the weekend. Feeling its imprint upon this space.  At its peak, seventy-one of us gathering to share old memories.  Creating many new ones as well. The last of the group leaving this morning.  Those baby birds who had been chirping in the birdhouse all weekend deciding it was time as well. Taking their first flight this afternoon.  Embarking on the next experience before them.  Leaving the comfort and safety of the nest behind.