After the rain…

The day out on the island was hot & muggy. Time was spent meeting new scouters & sharing our experiences & woodland skills. Meals were shared as were many stories. A good time was had by all & I think we all walked away with new knowledge.

But as the sun began to lower itself in the sky. My companions all left – one boatload at a time. Until I was left alone with my thoughts & my own woodland lore. My first task was to recce a spot to sleep for the night. Upon studying the map of the island that hangs in the cabin, I picked an area on the north shore – near what is referred to as “Skinny Dip Beach” (because Scouts of old would skinny dip at this spot). And so, I set forth along the trail – watching for poison ivy which riddles some spots on the island – seeking out a spot to bed down for the night. Once selecting a spot with a view of the lake, I returned to the cabin & hiked my gear in. Then I setup my camp, enjoying the solitude & the faith I have in my own skill.

The night was still hot – for as I sat next to my small fire I felt as if I was sitting in a sauna. As I ate my supper, I contemplated the beauty & serenity that surrounded me. The sun was setting, as too was the crescent moon. The silver sickle following in the path of the golden disc… a potent image.

The night was quiet. The lake was calm. Peace, paradise & serenity filled me. A perfect moment.

The next morning the weather turned. The winds blew strong from the south & with it came cooler & wetter air. The rain fell, soaking my tent. It wasn’t much fun striking camp – but something you get used to if you’ve ever spent a lot of time outdoors. I made it back to the cabin & began to plan my solo canoe trip back to the mainland. Listening to the weather on the emergency weather radio in the cabin, I watched through the window as the rain slowed & then stopped. A glimmer of sun poked through the clouds for a moment – an omen foretelling me of my only opportunity to cross the lake without rain.

As quick as I could, I loaded up the canoe & paddled for shore. The wind was with me as I left the dock next to the cabin. However, as I rounded the north point of the island – passing my campsite from the night before – I turned into the wind. I made short sprints from island to island – using the granite shores that rise up out of the water as a windbreak. At last, I reached the landing, unloaded my gear – put the canoe in its berth – & returned home.

The adventure, the moment, now in the past.

Tell me about your own adventures – either in the wild or any other journeys of solitude you might have undertaken.  What did you learn about the world & about yourself?  Please leave me a comment below.

Until next time…

A’fore a solitary night…

Solitude is often a tool well oiled by years of pensiveness & situation. For those of us who are truly solitary creatures, we value this time dedicated to the self. It is a time to reflect, to listen to one’s heart & to explore new & wonderous possibilities which often open up before Individuals at such times.

Upon the suggestion of my lovely wife, I am undertaking a night of solitary camping on an island not far from where I live. To use my mother’s words: I’m “going to play silly bugger in the bush” for a night. I have been looking forward to this night (Saturday, September 27th) since my wife made the suggestion. And so tomorrow, I will be off into the wild to reconnect with nature, with my own thoughts (without any mundane distractions) & hopefully with something deeper.

It will be a night to remember.

Do you ever have times of solitude? Time to yourself to think, to refocus & reconnect with what is truly important to you? If you do, I’d like to hear about them. Leave me a comment below & tell me about how you use your times of solitude to enrich your life.

Until next time, Blessed Be.