As the ferry left the berth in Swartz Bay (Victoria side of the crossing) I became thoughtful of all the times I've done this crossing. R and I commuted back and forth for a year after he moved to Vancouver to continue with his grad studies on site. I had to stay in Victoria to finish my last year of my business diploma. We did the best we could and took turns every weekend making the crossing and spending the weekend with each other.
Those first crossings were especially intense because of the meaning they held: they were the first tests of our fairly new relationship (5 months). It was this year that proved my first instinct the day of our fateful meeting- that we were meant to be together. It wasn't easy being apart and sometimes even being together was difficult. The stress we were under in our own circumstances could play out in these short times together. But it was always worth it in the end. And a year later I made the move to be with him, sealing our path together that would see us married and starting a family.
On this particular trip, like the many I've taken in recent years, I read my novel and listened to my iPod, occasionally glancing out the windows at the scenery going by. If you've ever taken this trip, you know how amazingly stunning Coastal British Columbia is. Admittedly, I haven't travelled enough to be objective, but I do believe that this place is one of the most stunning I've seen. I feel lucky and honoured to call it my home.
A couple trips ago, I saw a pod of killer whales. Not the first time I had seen them. As usual, when the crew announces a pod nearby, everyone flocks to the closest window or goes out on deck to find a good view. I distinctly remember almost being annoyed with how big a deal all these people were making of this event. It's not the first pod I'd seen and it won't be the last.
My response back then shocks me now but really I shouldn't be surprised. It was the first trip after the we lost Kenneth. I felt numb so my response to everything was equally numb. I remember crying, no, sobbing silently, and trying to make sure no one else saw me. It was one of the most difficult trips I ever made.
Today, like that day several months ago, the sun shone brilliantly. The sky was mostly clear of clouds. Glancing at the waves leaves you momentarily blinded as the sun glints off the peaks. The Islands, ever changing but ever the same stand guard on our passage.
I love this sailing. I had forgotten just how much. Coming back today it had hit me how much I missed actually enjoying the crossing and not just being absorbed in whatever I was doing. It had become a mundane occurrence, a fact that saddened me. Today I felt a renewed interest in the world around me, like I was seeing things through new eyes.
Maybe it's just feeling like I'm in a different and good place in my life right now. Maybe it the effect Hope can have. Maybe it doesn't matter why, just simply that it happened. I had been jaded and the veil seems to have been lifted.
These are two photos I took of another happy sailing. It was a trip that turned out to be my surprise bridal shower.
On another note, I discovered Saturday morning that peanut butter (which I LOVE) is NOT my friend. I had an apple and made two halves of an english muffin with margarine and peanut butter. By the end of the first half I suddenly couldn't chew anymore but I couldn't swallow either. I promptly hurried to the bathroom and lost my breakfast! Yay for still being pregnant! Boo for having to put peanut butter on the NO list. :(
Don't forget to stop by and see what other's are waxing poetically about...