Two nights ago, we were staying at the Sleepy Hollow Campground in Pincher Creek, Alberta. The creek after which the town was named flowed lazily between long grasses as Jaxon and I sat on the shore. An Aerobie (like a Frisbee) sat marooned on the far bank. Jaxon and I rescued a plastic glass that had dropped from a human hand into the water. Mostly though, we just sat, enjoying being with each other. I wondered if he would start talking about “chicks” or some other teen topic. No. We just were Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer watching the world float by.
That evening, we had a campfire. The campground in Waterton didn’t allow those. It was fun, seeing the family faces in the orange light. And then Daddio started telling stories. Lance is just awesomely good at it. I looked on, marvelling at his creativity, spontaneity and any other -ity I could think of. The boys were glued to his words. My fave had Jagger, Jaxon and Jace sitting around, worrying about the impending start of school. Their spirits merged and, in a flash of celestial light, time reversed itself. It was no longer Thursday, August 27 moving towards Thursday, September 3. Homework and tests faded away, to be replaced by endless ice cream cones, dirt bike trips, and sleeping in. Ecstasy! At least for awhile. After many calories expended and consumed, the dreaded b-o-r-e-d-o-m set in. Could it be possible that s-c-h-o-o-l was a good plan after all? The young men decided it was. Circular again, the power of youthful oomph brought the world forward once more. And it was good.
Waydago, Lance. I applauded. The 3 J’s smiled.
Yesterday morning, we packed up in the smoke and headed home before the winds picked up. The camper is a big one and the westerly hurricanes often rushing across Highway 22 have been known to flip semi-trailers.
I sat beside Ember and petted her. We were quiet. Then she laid her head on her paws, about eighteen inches from my left hand. I wanted her to come closer for more loves but that’s not the way life works. Let them all go, Bruce. Let them do what they need to do. They may come back or they may not.
I watched fence posts. Several hawks stood on guard during our journey. I wanted there to be more hawks than there were. There weren’t. Winding down towards home, I am. I’ll sure miss my family in Alberta.
I thought of my three marathon days of driving to get back to Union, Ontario. That’s okay … Sunday, Monday and Tuesday – piece of cake. Get good sleeps and be alert for those tipping semis.
We sat around last night and watched a bit of “Stand By Me” until the language got too bad for 8-, 12- and 14-year-olds. And so to snooze.