water in morning. cool water on my skin, shallow and refreshing. cleaning my clothes like a medieval person - "plunge and scrub" in the lake, on the sand.
a day spent relaxing, climbing on the jagged rocks, ancient magma exposed, thick with burgundy iron, small pools in their recesses. i get naked in one, resting, bathing, time a beautifully meaningless thing - no rush, no schedule - me and the rock and the water and far off, the blue sky and the sand. thrashing through the bush, around the gorgy inlets too steep or wide to climb or jump.
a delicious pasta dinner.
a chance that asta comes to toronto - an exciting chance.
a ride comes through to the sault. ease. beautiful ease. i could get used to this time, this extra. will i want to get on the bike again? it will be harder the more i enjoy this, yet i count on no joy around the bend. expectations can breed disappointment, unless one prepares for the worst - but there is stress in that.
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