Sunday, August 31, 2014

Annis Bay

Larch Haven, Annis Bay, British Columbia, Canada

My connection to this "window into heaven" is deep and cannot be measured by the number of summers I came here as a granddaughter, the number of summers I didn't come here as a young adult, or the number of years I have lived here as a mother.

How can I measure my connection to "the lake"? In the number of paint rocks I crushed at the beach? In the number of books I read from the Salmon Arm library? In the number of belly-laughs, joy-filled moments or deep sorrows I recall from time at "grandpa's cabins"? 
Today, on my early morning walk, I measured it by the number of rocks I pick up and tossed to the edge of the road. In the number of blackberries I ate that were perfectly ripened. In the number of pieces of driftwood I stepped over as I walked along the beach.

But perhaps I will measure it years from now in the number of family and friends who joined in person or in their hearts in the celebration of 50th anniversary of the company that holds it all together: LaRue.

1 comment:

  1. This post was so evocative of the past, of my own trips down or up country roads, picking up the loose stones, throwing them off into the ditches, looking at the small copses of trees, going back to places I have taken children to act out the 3 Bears or to Play the Three Little Pigs -- it had so much of that kind of past, that I was speechless. I couldn't type a word.

    So I went back to work, cleaning ... and ran across 2 binders I have of letters Doral used to write to those of us who were away from home. The letters are carbon copies -- I don't know who got the originals. Sometimes they are addressed to Richard, sometimes to Glen ... everyone gets their turn at being his target audience, with the rest of us listening in.

    I have the letters in a binder now entitled "Doral's Letters: 1959 to 1981". If you are ever over at my house, ask and I will show you where they are so you can thumb through them. As well, this summer I have looked at 3 other treasures from him: a cedar box, a tin box with gold decoration and a small filing box.

    The past is precious. Not that I can afford to spend too much time back there in it -- but a little bit is good.

    Thanks for the memories, Bonnie.