In a few days we’ll be in the Boundary Waters and all this will be distant, more distant than memory, more distant than the city, as distant as a rocky glaciated shoreline is from a microchip.
I think of those shorelines often. From the rocks at the waterline up into the thick forest that rarely shows its inhabitants. This time of year the tree tops seem tired as they sway in the wind, their leaves beginning to turn, but I can see the joy that they find in the dance. Or perhaps it is my joy I’m seeing, but I’m beginning to think more and more that my joy is the world’s and the world’s is mine.
I told Rosie last night that I’ve been imagining us standing at the edge of a lake, at a campsite after dinner maybe, holding her in my arms, both of us quietly staring out over the lake.
That’s my idea of heaven. And of life.
RSS
It sounds like you have the right mindset going in and if I didn’t mention it before, I am truly jealous of your trip to the BWCA. I made a stupid mistake last month that blew my fall trip budget so I will be living vicariously through your adventure, I’m afraid. Hope you don’t mind.
PS-
Don’t let your expectations get the better of you this time!