The light is turning here.
The long summer days, which began as early as 5:00 a.m. and ended as late as 10:00 p.m., are growing shorter. The sunlight is still cheerful but less confident. The leaves are lush and green… and yet, the faintest whisper of fall is in the air.
One day, out of the blue, a messenger hawk brought a bold note from the Western Wilds to my castle in Kanata. It read simply,
“Greetings! Are you visiting Canada and not letting me know? For shame! I grew up in the area and can show you the sights. I live 1.5 hours away and will come to visit you next Saturday.”
It was signed, of course, David from the fortress West.
I remembered David as tall, overwhelming, bombastic, collaborative, and inclusive of all when we met briefly in New York. He makes his living as a warrior at the fortress West. He is the tough-and-ready boots on the ground with the organizational skills to overcome any odds, found on any average day running through the Canadian wilds braving bears, moose and mosquitos. Standing next to him made me feel small as a baby squirrel. And when he jumped out of his car at the castle last Saturday night, my co-worker Clarke and I had to brace ourselves a bit against the force of his presence.
He whisked us away to dinner, and then after we’d talked through politics, religion, the military, and politics again, we speeded away across the river into Quebec, into the woods, to an unknown destination. “A scenic overlook,” he said, and went back to speaking of his beautiful German girlfriend. The sun was setting quickly.
We arrived at 9:00 as the last of the light was fading. A stone wall ran along the side of the road and between the wall and the road, cars were parked. We parked and got out to take in the view. To our backs was the north: the road, and behind the road, the Gatineau Mountains. In front of us was the south: the stone wall and a beautiful, fertile farm valley. The farmhouse lights twinkled under the massive sunset.
“This is it,” he said. “North of us, there are no major Canadian cities.” The mystique of the northern wilds clung to his words. For the moment we all stood in the between: on the wall separating domesticated life and untamed wilderness; under the day sky turning dark, and summer turning autumn. One foot in the safe and familiar… one dangling over the unknown.
Reflecting in the moment, I felt myself also between. Hovering on the wall between the known and the wilds, looking toward the adventure of the unfamiliar. Homebody with gypsy horizons. Leaving the safe to explore the uncomfortable. There’s always a wall, isn’t there? There’s always a new frontier to explore, whether it’s physical, mental, emotional, or relational.
For myself, I seek new borders; and from there, I always want to push forward to find the adventures beyond the wall.
~The Dauntless Princess~
