Road Diary 30/05/23 - Cache Creek, BC
Last days on the island, first day of the road home. Twelfth time crossing the continent by road. First time solo.
It has slipped by like a dream, this last month here, like a whole season in retrospect, and still, somehow, summer is just beginning. It’s magic and mirages, ferry terminals and highway lines, that steady flick of yellow racing by. It’s sunshine and dry heat, the ocean and the smell of wildfire smoke. It’s family and friends, forest footsteps and long runs with my sister. It’s freshly formed habits and commitments to breaking bad ones. It’s reflection and procrastination, patience and forgiveness. It’s the past circling back and it’s the future being defined. It’s me, central and inconsequential. A life unfolding, small and insignificant against the mountains and their millennia. It’s a joy and it’s relief. It’s nothing and everything and all that I know.
