On our first day out at the beach after returning to Vancouver Island, Mhari waved from the very edge of the water, where the tide wandered just past the tips of her boots and shouted “I remember this!”
I giggled. A friend told us the West Coast just made sense with us on it. It was that moment when I completely understood her sentiment. My deep and lingering affection for The Maritimes aside, it is the drift wood and tide pools packed with star fish, sea urchins and hungry hordes of crabs of The Pacific that make our family feel at ease.
Having a lovely chunk of our summer to feed that ease in the Comox Valley gives me a rather insane sense of kismet and gratitude. Whatever we thought we needed to make another big transition, the universe gave us 8 weeks of familiar warmth, adventure and each other.
It’s a time filled with reunion and simple bits of awesome – like riding the big lawn mower with dad, picking flowers in the meadows or exploring tidal streams while the salty breeze fills us up and the gentle sunshine filtering through the constant bits of clouds gives us a glow.
For me, it’s a reminder of all that is good – how precious these moments are of childhood and family, finding ourselves lost in the quiet, because it won’t last long.
Of course, my wanderlust also gets a decent shot in the arm too as we fling ourselves into the newness of opening days, festivals, community celebrations and house parties.
Two months of summer on Vancouver Island, that’s one way to transition after a year away. Now I understand why the West Coast is our home and will be our home base – no matter where we venture off to – for a lifetime to come.