It's the most beautiful of sunny summer days here in Toronto, and I think of my friend Michelle, in her mountain village in Argentina, probably huddled over a heater drinking something hot and dreaming of the weather I'm now enjoying.
It's quarter-end at work and management is in full-planning mode. But today is a day to forget all of that. I've pulled out my camping gear (tent, thermarest, sleeping bag, mess kit, water bottle, tent), some of it unused in 20 years. Tomorrow I head out on a canoe trip with my sister. Just 3 days paddling the Rideau system near our cottage, but still a carefree float over crystal blue waters, amongst worn pink granite and towering emerald pines. Camping beside 180 year old canal locks built by a British empire nervous about a newly independent United States.
We'll cook breakfast oatmeal over a small gas burner, munch on nuts and raisins as we drift by stately family summer homes, rinse off in quiet rocky coves and wander into small mill towns to eat dinner at quaint, trendy summer eateries. It may rain, the winds may blow. But it'll be a perfect, mid-summer escape from the baked, 4-lane asphalt avenues of the big city.
I'll try to project some of the warmth and sunshine I'm enjoying so Michelle can escape, for at least a few minutes, the cool Argentine winter.
-30-
