Sunday 13 September 2015

Possibilities

Sometimes, you don't find possibilities, they find you. Let's take yesterday as an example. 
Yesterday was a beautiful, yet sluggish day, aka "the day after the party". You know those: Once in a while you get lucky enough to attend a fabulous party where everything is just right: you laugh until your belly hurts, eat delicious food, drink champagne, dance, stay way later than you anticipated,  and have the time of your life. Those parties are the best. They don't happen too often, so when they do, you better soak up every last second of it. 

Soak up we did, which meant that the day after we felt drained. We spent our weekend allotment of energy, laughs and good cheer on Friday night, and had nothing left yesterday. Or so we thought.  

You may know that one of our favourite couple rituals is to dream where we might live next. This is nothing unusual for North Americans, because moving is pretty normal for them;  but it is a big deal for Germans. You see, the typical German builds their house once in their lifetime, and then lives in it until the day they die. They like to root themselves to a spot like a big old oak tree, and oak trees don't like to be uprooted. 
This way of thinking is deeply ingrained in the two of us, clashing with our immigrant's soul of adventure and wanting to experience new things. 

We are very happy where we live - our farm is our happy place. There are so many unique little corners we love: The willow tree by the pond; Richard's flower garden he planted this year; the horse pasture; our front yard where I do most of my yoga in.    

And yet.

We both dream of living more in nature, far enough away from the hustle and bustle of civilization to have the illusion of living in the wilderness, yet close enough to work, shopping, and general humanness (we are not hermits). For years now, we have been keeping our eyes open, in no hurry, but looking just the same. Because one thing we know is this: We only live once. 
And if there should ever come the right place along and we can somehow make it happen, we will. 

Yesterday we had to pick up some salmon we had smoked. Neither of us was really in the mood for it (because of the sluggishness, remember?), but we had already arranged it with the smoke-guy and didn't want to cancel. Grumbling, we piled the two little dogs and ourselves into the car and took off.

It was a gorgeous day, full of sunshine, blue sky, the clear mountains in the distance and that special golden light that only comes out in the fall. We were headed towards Chilliwack, which is about 45 minutes drive away from us. 
My mood had improved greatly - until we turned off the normal road and onto a small, windy one that snaked its way uphill. Serpentines are my nemesis, because they make me feel queasy. Turns out, I'm not the only one: Our Blue Heeler puppy had a hard time as well and puked onto the back seat. Wonderful. 

I was just getting started berating Richard for not warning us about the serpentines (because I would have stayed at home), when the tree cover on both sides opened up. 

OMG.

Up in the mountains, completely hidden away from the eyes of most people, is paradise. A stunning valley with rolling hills, grazing cows, frolicking horses, and mountains all around. It was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun - magic hour

I was mesmerized, struck speechless by the beauty all around us. Queasiness forgotten, I tried to soak it all in: The green meadows, dotted with little ponds here and there; the pony trotting down the hill, so cute with its little steps and mane flying in the wind; the pretty houses nestled perfectly into the landscape. The air was pure and fresh, so delicious that you could get drunk on it. 
Had we found our spot?

The guy who smokes our fish lives in the best location of all: On 8 acres, with a view to die for, bathed in sunlight all day long. You know how he found this enchanted place?


This is the mountain he flies off of. He can now walk up there from his house.

He is a paraglider, and discovered this valley about 15 years ago. When he saw the place from the air where now his house stands, he decided then and there that he would buy that place if it was for sale. 
It was, and he did. 
He is a passionate hiker and flyer, and can do both activities right from home. His demeanour and his place both radiate peace, beauty and contentment. 
It is a special valley. 

I am in love. For now it's a dream, a fantasy, my imaginary happy place. 

But maybe, just maybe, it will become real. And if/when it does, I will take you all along for the ride!

If you open your eyes and heart, the possibilities are endless...




    


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4 comments

  1. It is, and we love it. Maybe we will be here forever, and I would be fine with that.
    But then again - living in a log cabin in the mountains, with fresh air and gorgeous nature all around us would be heavenly ...
    I love dreaming! :-)

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  2. Isn't it fun? The dreaming is the best part, much easier than the reality haha. I love picturing ourselves in different places, it's exciting!

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  3. Oohh yes, that sounds lovely! And why not? It's all possible these days! Maybe you will one day, how amazing would that be?!

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