Yesterday it was 23 degrees in Vancouver. There was one big puffy white cloud right in the centre of the sky, and the rest of it was vastly baby blue. The trees in Stanley Park were a rich dark green. The ocean sparkled. It was one of those days that always convinces me to ditch work and play outside.
I looked longingly out the window and started to tear up.
"what's wrong, babe?" M asked.
"I just want to go outside and play," I said like a cooped up four-year-old swallowing my tears.
"Then let's go." he said. "Don't even think about why you can't. We're going. These are your favourite days."
And before I knew it, he had treats packed for Harley and water for all three of us. And we were going hiking. (well, more like "strolling" but it's all the same no matter the pace, I suppose.)
Harley loves days like this too. We're two peas in a pod that way. The way she wags her tail and drools at the idea of a hike, is a visual replica of what's happening inside my heart at the thought of the same thing.
We drove out to Lynn Valley in North Vancouver where the fir trees tower sky high and the canyon makes for some beautiful views, waterfalls, and hikes.
Lynn Canyon Park is 617 acres of second growth forest (most of the trees are 80 to 100 years old!) There's an awesome suspension bridge that sways about 50 meters about the canyon -- it's loads of fun (as long as you're not faint at heart.)
Although we only did a small small hike today, the park has a ton of great trails that I hope to be trail running on one day soon! It's a beautiful spot.
We walked slowly and carefully. I was weak but not disabled. I think Harls prefers my slower pace these days; she can take more time to sniff and venture off the beaten trail before we catch up.
We sauntered, really, stopping a few times for me to crouch and relieve some back pain or to catch my breath. Sometimes, M can see by the look in my eyes that I am feeling beaten or worthless, and he picks me up before I even fall.
There were moments when I felt like this hike might be worthless if I can't enjoy it the way I normally would. But before I could fall into self-loathing, he pointed out different bits of nature that he knew I'd love: a sprouting fern, a red flower amidst the greenery, a waterfall, the sound of rapid waters, a bird, a beetle the size of a small child (well, maybe not that big.) We took pictures. We told stories. We laughed. We peed in the woods. And it was, for a fleeting moment, just like life used to be pre-injury. And it reminded me that I could be there again.
An hour or so later, my spirit was rejuvenated, my optimism revived, and my appreciation for M off the scale.
This is going to be a beautiful summer.
I can't wait to explore it all, at whatever pace I can muster.
