Rooted, I used to think.

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Monday, Jun. 13, 2022 @ 1:21 pm

I can finally breathe.

I have this pile of notes of moments to write about. Too much time has passed.

Good dream. I don’t remember what the dream was about. Something about a hug with someone that I love? Not sure.

Cake. What happened to do with cake? I’m lost on this one.

Redwing blackbird. We were mountain biking through rolling Okanagan terrain. The arrowleaf sunflowers in boom, the hillsides dotted with nodding yellow heads. We raced down through a ponderosa forest to a wetland. There, a flock of redwing blackbirds were mating, nesting. A riot of noise. We dismounted and lay in the grass to listen to the birds, watch them dart around above us. Finches, hummingbirds, starlings. A mourning dove. Could I be happier than in this moment? Everything that I do has the end goal of creating moments like this for myself.

Wine event. I went with a group of friends (!) to a wine festival event, this one a casual affair with a beach theme and tasting all California wines. The vendors were pouring large samples. To the point of absurdity. This was a Wednesday night. During my first week at the City. I was at my limit, probably beyond my limit if I’m being honest. Doesn’t matter. At the end of the night, a woman rushes over to me and says, “I just wanted to tell you how gorgeous you are. Seriously, I’ve been admiring you all night.” I blush. I’m wearing jeans, boots, a practical raincoat, a ponytail and, classically me, zero makeup. I’d noticed her too, petite with a bright and open face. Maybe I’d been looking at her too much. She reminded me of someone. I cycled home so happy and fulfilled, and not just on behalf of the wine.

Izakaya, rain shower, skinny dipping. Friday night. We walk across the city looking for somewhere interesting to eat. I notice a restaurant on top of an office building. We find the entrance to the izakaya, a beautiful dining room surrounded by gardens. A sky garden. We sit at the bar, watching the chef slice fish with expert precision. We eat battered fried squid and jellyfish salad and grilled black cod (my favourite). Sake and Sapporo. His leg against mine. When we go to leave, rain is sheeting from the sky. Heaving buckets of rain. There’s nothing to be done about getting wet. We cycle home through the deserted, flooded streets. At home, he takes my hand. “Let’s go to the beach.” He has a funny look about him. We get to the beach, and he starts taking off his shoes, his clothes. He’s naked and walking into the ocean before I have even peeled the shoes off of my feet. I follow him in, and we swim out there in English Bay, the city sparkling in the night, rain falling. Treading water. Looking up to the warm glow from our apartment window.

Hamilton. We saw Hamilton at the theatre. Musical theatre is so different from my usual pursuits, and yet it is equally life affirming. The talent, the artistry, the energy. I watch the whole thing from the edge of my seat with my mouth slightly agape. I’ve never spent this much money on three hours of my life, and I regret nothing.

Paddleboarding, seal snuffing. An evening of paddleboarding alongside the seawall. A seal rising behind me. I hear its exhale before I see it. I kneel down to see it more closely, the large black eyes, the small curled holes of ears. The sun sets in radiating colours. My paddle dipping in and out of the water. I live in paradise.

Talented and personable. I’m a month into my new job. Chatting with my boss, and when I tell him that I’m happy to have joined the City, he responds, “We are super lucky to find someone so talented and personable.” I was already falling ever so slightly in love with him, and when he says this to me I am overcome with a wash of oxytocin through my system. This feels nice, and I’m going to allow myself to enjoy it.


Roots | Shoots