It is time to adjourn to my second refuge of Canadian tranquility and annual primal camping on my family island of 55 acres up in the Bush.
Although, over the years it has been plumped up a bit with creature comforts, I look forward to my tent blowing in from all sides during thunderstorms, mosquito bites, and water snake encounters. It is all part of the charm.
I also spend time gazing at the delicate Damselflies that jump from water lily to the end of my paddle. I stare up at the trees when I break from reading in my tree hammock. I watch the beaver build and Osprey soar.
There are many wonders of island-life that allow my life to feel blessed.