There’s something special about returning to a place where time seems to have stood still; a place that I’ve been frequenting for the last 25 years of my life, and can count on the fact that the juice glasses will remain the same, as do the pots, the pans and the stove that is surely from the 50’s and has helped feed its fair share. Visiting my cottage in Thunder Bay is one of those spots that holds ridiculously happy childhood memories and I hold it very close to my heart. It’s a place the epitomizes a Canadian summer: the fridge is always full of beer, when you walk through the bush, you must have a bear whistle tied around your wrist, just in case, the lake is refreshingly cold and the sunsets would make your heart skip a beat.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I spent the large majority of my week lounging on the dock, catching up on books that I’ve been meaning to get through but could never finish due to a lack of spare time. While I was originally fretting about the idea of being in the middle of nowhere with no connection to the outside world for an entire week, something I haven’t done since I was quite young, it ended up being just the ticket. Having literally nothing that needed to be done but watch the waves roll in, or the sun set over the lake was a welcome change from my mind reeling with a million different thoughts, ideas and things that need to be done. After adjusting to the thought of being able to read for four uninterrupted hours, I settled in just fine. While I wasn’t curled up on the front porch with a book, I passed the time listening to my 89 year old grandpa tell stories from the 1930’s, playing scrabble on the front port and eating my weight in home-cooked meals. One evening in particular was spent sitting on the boathouse for over an hour just watching an electrical storm off in the distance. It was easily one of the most amazing (and eerie) sights I’ve experienced.
I must admit though, I am happy to be back amidst the hustle and the bustle of my busy city life, only now with a clearer frame of mind. But if I can offer any advice (and this is something I’m sure I’ll have to refer back to in the near future) it’s that it’s okay to sit and watch the rain fall for a solid half an hour. In fact, it’s encouraged. It does more good than you know.
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