It is beginning to drizzle outside. The soccer field is getting a crew cut. The garden is taking a pause between the flowering of the purple iris and the white and purple iris bunches. Only the white and purple iris in the soccer field where I have stored them are beginning to show.
Younger boy has just got up. After his breakfast-lunch combination we will go to the mountains. My parents think we are engaged in a futile encounter with the wilderness-such as it is. I guess they may be right. The hike up the Lake Louise path isn't wilderness in my mind but a civilized walk but it is a beginning. Hike #6 will be done probably in rain as the forecast is for wet in Lake Louise. No matter. Boy will be exposed to the semi-wilderness.
I feel we should have done this more often but we're in Edmonton and it's not like when we lived in Calgary when we would just pack a lunch and go. Now it's more work.
The investigations are put aside. The lawsuit is left on the floor. I ignore the appointments for next week that I have to again find the locations. I pack a few fruit, the cookies and the leftovers in the fridge and we're off.
Life is short. From a lifetime spent in the company of sick people I understand that illness can end all this sort of outings to the mountains. I know that health is the wealth that we never think of until it is gone. I know all we have is our family and friends as the web that sustains all of us. I know that when we get to the final door and open it, on the other side will be silence, darkness and an end to all exploration. I know this because death punctuates everywhere the thin illusions of our lives and makes the light pour through.
Such light! The light of life. And far away in the marsh, the red winged blackbirds sing triumphantly of this life. Let us live it like they do--in the present. Singing. For no matter what comes, no one can rob us of these small encounters with ourselves and our beloved ones on these visitations to the landscape that is beautiful all around us in Alberta.