Yesterday, I drove my son and grandson to the airport.
It’s a 2 hour drive to the big city. I hadn’t be in a big city for almost 2 months. It was a little overwhelming. 12 lane highways. Bumper-to-bumper traffic. Large crowds. Long lineups. Attractions. A major league baseball stadium. An NHL hockey arena. An MLS soccer stadium. Live theatre. An entertainment district. More restaurants than can be counted. High rises. Continual movement. Constant noise.
It’s a sharp contrast to cottage life where everything is much smaller, quieter, and more relaxed. Serene. Tranquil. Where the only sounds I hear are birds chirping, leaves rustling in the wind, and fish jumping.
I have been at the cottage for almost 2 months now. I have read a lot. Cycled even more. Relaxed. Refocused. I am beginning to think of the trip home. I have a few items to complete first. A second coat of paint on the porch floor. A new tile ceiling in the back hall. Clean and protect the decks from the winter snow. And, close in the screened porch. Then I will be ready to close up. This will take me a week. Maybe two. Then I will be on my way. Back to another big city, a continent away.
This is the first time I have had such an extended stay. In the past, I would spend weekends, a week or two, a month at the most. My weight is down. I eat simply, and am more active. My heart rate is lower. I am unhurried. And, I haven’t had long pants on since I arrived. Cycling bibs. Bathing suit. Shorts. And, at times, a t-shirt. That’s it. My cycling tan lines, those lines I was so proud of, are gone. Now, I am brown from head to foot.