Missing Canada …? I realized, and realize, that there is a different sense of community there. At the time, the people and the mentality of the town make it what it is. So many people seem to be implants and have satiated that spot in their souls with Squamish. The rest continue their quest to quench that wanderlust. To find it is middle ground. Not Whistler, nor Vancouver. Community is part of a cultivated lifestyle – establish your morning routine amongst the presence of greatness in the Zephyr café.
Sunny days, rainy days; in balance so it seems. The Chief tends to safekeeping, drinking the cleansing rain and I spot him out my window in meditation, alone now. And I realized, my last night there, his presence. Alive. The rock is special and there is an enchanted forest below him? Beyond, Skypilot out my window. Across the Howe Sound and snow on the tops and so much snow on Brohm Ridge and then there was the Black Tusk.
Different frequency of positive vibrations one must listen to hear. Being pretty much happy all the time. A man on my own – almost.
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