in case you were wondering...

the ocean beach does make a world of difference.

i can think of no other way to breath wide and really stretch the soul.

 

definitely very much worth the trek. (and a mighty trek it was without a car. a double stroller and a willingness to walk a heck of a long way help though.)

see? 

into the woods

i've been talking about going to woods for a year. a full year. 

what with having a new baby, moving to a new home, adjusting to life with the wife back to work with the boy in preschool and the girl with a nanny, well... it just wasn't possible last year.

but then my baby brother came for a visit last week. he comes to visit with his lady every year, and with every visit, we try to do something touristy and terrifically new with them.

so came our visit to lynn canyon.

just before children, the wife and i came out here with friends at least three times in one year and had really, just the best hiking experiences ever. (i miss those girls.)

but the park has since upgraded its amenities. the once flat trails i remember so well are now mostly accessible by stairway... and um, we didn't factor in how exactly, a stroller would fit into the mix.

we didn't get into the crevices of the woods as i had originally envisioned.

the boy wanted to be carried more often than necessary and the trails led to steeper hikes than we were brave enough to tackle with the girl on our back... but it was still, overall, a successful little family adventure.

the boy discovered slugs.

and i allowed myself to rediscover the forest.

i hunted for mushrooms. but with summer almost nearly underway in the forest, the mushrooms that teemed in the forest when i was last there in the fall almost four years ago just weren't there. 

the only fungus to be found were on fallen trees.

there's something so spiritual about being enveloped almost entirely by varying shades of green and brown...

something about the kind of quiet that is void of the ever-present hum of our city life.

the kind of quiet that gives way to the unmistakable rush of water nearby, or the constant chatter of birds unseen, and yet and all around.

the wife and i took it in turns to run down the nearby stairway to pay a visit to the gorge nearby.

it is so humbling to behold the sheer power of water rushing against earth and rock. 

(and i will totally admit to knowing for a fact that if i was ever reaped for the hunger games, the odds would SO not be in my favour. ahem.)

when it was the wife's turn to visit the water, i set the girl free in a nearby meadow and gave her free reign over where she wanted to go and what she wanted to do.

she wanted to play with the stroller.

and excavate the gravel road.

what is up with that? 

i took as many pictures as i could. 


but a hike with even one toddler (my brother and his lady scampered away with the boy after our picnic lunch) meant that i could only linger through the forest with my eyes and my feet, not my camera. there was little opportunity to zoom in and see the parts that make the sum of the forest.

i can't wait to go back. if not to lynn valley, then an elsewhere canopy-sanctuary nearer by. 

this time, stroller-free. with babes on our backs or on their feet.


maybe we'll just pick a spot and just go off-trail for a bit. 


maybe i'll come prepared with stories of faeries and gnomes and foxes and deer. 


maybe we'll take a moment to stay still together watching for and listening to the birds.

whatever may be, into the woods we must return, as many times as possible.


living in this city, there really is no excuse.

one day a week: reprieve, gratitude, hope

last week was very challenging for our family on many counts. not tragic, or painful... but certainly challenging. the wife worked for six days straight, there continues to be administrative "drama" at the preschool, i am hard at work on a project at the day job, and we found out that two people dear to us were hospitalized.

we just really needed a day off. out and away from our perpetually cluttered home, from kitchen duty, laundry duty, and guilt over how much tv our children are actually watching so we can gain composure/ catch up on chores/ have a moment to reflect/ you get the idea.

and saturdays have been just that these days. our one day a week boycott from our nest. 

i go to a knitting class on finishing at this adorable local yarn store where the temptation to buy yarn almost always wins, i'm afraid. but the people i've met are nice and our teacher is helpful and very reassuring. it helps to know where i'm at with this new skill i've become obsessed with. 

after knit class, i typically meet up with my little family and we run errands and then go wherever our feet happen to take us.

and our feet usually take us to granville island. because we love it there. 

this time, we parked ourselves near the kids' play area. but then i saw this cluster of cherry blossoms raining petals. i suddenly remembered something i threw out to the universe years ago, before children, happening upon just these very trees with children dancing beneath the flower heavy bows. i remembered wishing (quite hard) for the day i would dance with my children under the same trees.

okay, i didn't dance. but i took a ton of pictures. 

and i did chase the boy around for a bit. he agreed. it was magical.

which meant that the girl had to take a little tour, too. her visit was short as she was mostly concerned about keeping her balance and grabbing onto my leg.

and then we saw a herd(?) of turtles.

and then we walked to the beach.

where the girl played tag with the tide for a little while.

and the boy did his favourite thing.

it was a very full day but a reprieve all the same.

i am so grateful for so many things.

including the fact that the day also came with a rendez-vous with a cousin, whose company we not only thoroughly enjoy but who also cheerfully played with our children - and pushed the stroller on the way home, so the wife and i could take a few minutes to hold hands and reconnect.

when i lived in toronto, fall was my favourite season. but in vancouver, spring has become my new favourite. the days are longer, the earth wakes up to the warmth of the season earlier, nature's first green lingers gold for a little longer than a blink, and i find myself with hope in my skin and in my heart.

i am sending happy thoughts and prayers to my mother in law, who is undergoing a procedure very soon. i hope she is as pain-free as possible as she awaits the procedure, that the procedure is successful, that she has a strong and productive recovery, and that she knows that we are thinking about her. 

i hope you all have a lovely week. 

one day a week: trying new things

after a very long stretch of illness, which included a visit from my parents, our little family is finally coming back to centre. this weekend, we spent our one day a week trying new things.

i got up very early in the morning to attend my very first knitting class.

the boy went to his very first art class.

and we got a new book to read. a new family fave.

it was a ridiculously beautiful day.

we attended the very first birthday party the boy has ever been invited to, outside of family. which meant a fabulous opportunity to return to granville island.

the girl had her first encounter with ducks and geese. if she had it her way, we would be in the water   with them.

and then we all knocked out together at 8pm, an indication to be sure that it was a very good day indeed. (though i got myself up again at 9:30pm where i knit for 3 hours whilst discovering season one of game of thrones. but that stolen moment is another matter all together.)

it has been too long since our last one day a week adventure. now if only the weather would cooperate long enough for a walk in the woods. i've been talking about that for nearly a year now.

but first, there is another birthday to plan for. and perhaps just a bit of last minute crafting. we'll see.

one day a week: gratitude outside, mindfulness inside

i was raised mostly indoors in the philippines, in an air-conditioned existence. and a good little life it was. but what a shame, to have been living on a tropical island and to very rarely have enjoyed the jungles and beaches my country must have had, and still has to offer. 

but perhaps this is why i have become addicted to finding a way to get outside.

there is a quality of light, unlike any other - especially on cloudy days, when concrete gives way to to the elements. i find myself breathing more deeply. i retreat to the quietest corner in my mind: a vantage point that sees and feels with distinct clarity. it is when i get outside that i find peace enough to get me through the chaos of the moment, the day, the week. 

it is when we are outside that i spend most of my time being grateful.

: for the wife who complements my inability to let my son explore the rocks further than my comfort zone instead of his.

: for the son who loves the beach and ocean as much as i do.

: for the daughter who is still small enough for us both to enjoy her naps on my chest.

: for our vancouver family, the people who make it possible for us to carry on with our lives the way we do. 

: for the city that offers us so much more than just a place to live and work.

i am so very grateful.

though if i was being honest, the wife would probably say that it is when we are outside that i am most "spacey." 

i really must work on being more mindful, conscious, present. 

because it was when i was most grateful that the girl had her very first tastes of the sunset beach sand. 

 (go ahead. shake your head. i already have.)