Fall’s Fate

From Vancouver City, I take the ferry to Vancouver Island – to Cowichan Bay to be precise – where I am expected to make some cider. I awoke my soft steps in Whytecliff Park where magic scenes were looking for movie set and I am now sliding on the grey ocean. Sun is in my back, it is like the island was too far to be reached by its light. I would like to truly experience the Pacific on the deck but, like in November three years ago, the wind is too cold. And today, I don’t have anybody for my backlight, I don’t have anybody to slowly walk on the boat with.
The fog suddenly gets my mind numb as I am crossing this little stretch of Pacific that ones named differently: Strait of Georgia. Thus, the sun is not only too far for the island, clouds are too close. And when I reach Nanaimo harbor, shores are barely visible in the humid haze. Strangely, I don’t feel like I am on an island, I feel like I keep going on a huge city, only contained in one mile square this time. Let’s say Vancouver Island is closer to Ireland than Aran Islands…

This morning newly grey strangely wraps my state of mind. Yet, I drive towards what appears to be my fate. I feel like something big will come out of here, while I am also trying not to get too excited, not to hope too much.
The minute I get to my new home, I don’t want to leave anymore! I instantly fall in love with the autumn’s bay where birds endlessly sing. The place is like a wonder, so different from everything I have seen until now. I don’t want to leave ever… My car’s broke down definitely blew me a slowness desire. I regret more and more my Idaho plans. I regret my anticipation.
Lost in my thoughts, I get an email telling me I won’t be needed until beginning of December. I won’t get my American country Thanksgiving, I won’t be in Seattle for the 20th of November, but it perfectly matches my wishes. It is weird, anytime I am in US territory, I don’t want to leave anymore, reason why everything was already planed in Idaho when I hadn’t even left Alaska. Once I am escaped though, I realize I might feel better elsewhere, I realize it might not be the place for me.

I don’t know what is awaiting for me here but I am full of this certainty: something intense is supposed to happen. Waiting for a clearer view, I am exhausted, I try to catch up with my October sleep and I press apples to make good cider. I learn about new things, I get lost in my gazing of the Bay. I feel good. I have all the time I need. My heart belongs to this place. Even just for a short while. I am where I am supposed to be. Happy and open-minded. Curious and cheerful.

My first night is clear, there is so many stars, but the moon falls asleep in white and hazy halo. Morning doesn’t awake in the fog anymore. And I cherish the fleeting and precious moment of my first sun rise on Vancouver Island, of my first morning, when going to the bathroom, my first look is enhanced by my red window, by trees black shadows, by Cowichan haze. This light is unique.

It is my secret.