I’ve been unpacking my belongings from what feels like another life. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult to be back in a place that was so special to me, but walking back into that little basement apartment was surreal. Like being punched with the brass knuckles of nostalgia, but not the wistful, happy type – rather, the type of nostalgia that is laced with regret and longing. I couldn’t help but wonder what I had been doing there for all those months. Playing house. Seeing it from the outside made me realize how much it wasn’t me. I still wouldn’t trade it for anything. I was definitely happy for a time.
And now I’m here.
And I wish I could give my eyes to you. Too many times I’ve sat and stared at a mountain and begged my mind to remember every shadow and crevice. Lately, I’ve been too focused on my mistakes. On the people I’ve misread. On the promises I’ve made that somehow got forgotten.
But placed in front of the magnificent scale of a mountain, all my problems seem pretty damn small.
I’m no saint.
But everyday I’m trying to correct the parts of me that are less than desirable. And I’m turning my focus to living a life I can be happy with.
I’ve been out of Lake and into BC a lot lately. The drive through the Rockies is always incredible. Winding roads that border steep cliffs that drop into the valleys between the mountains. The white tipped mountains gradually give way to towering cliffs of red stone. Parts of it remind me of Nevada. Then coming back into Alberta, we were welcomed by a surpise snowy landscape. I could never get tired of the west, because the diversity is incredible.
My photo of the day is at the foot of a waterfall just outside of Revelstoke.
We traversed barefoot down the side of a steep gully to the base of the waterfall. A thick moss blanketed the ground and wrapped around the trees so that all around you was a vibrant green. I was so close at moments that I could feel the air move with the water that rushed through the steep canyon walls.
It was surreal.