In the spring of the year ...

... my mind turns to summer. From there it journeys to vacation possibilities.  Where we will go this year?  What new adventure will we have?  And then I start to look through my pictures of previous years.  Places visited.  Memories of good times.  Memories of adventures.  Memories of close encounters with Papa Bear.  Memories ....

And so my mind wanders back to memories of the first day of our vacation last year, 2011.  First stop on our two weeks of wandering around Northern Ontario was Tobermorey, Ontario on the tip of the Bruce Peninsula.  Where Lake Huron and Georgian Bay meet.  Labour Day weekend in a tourist area.  Crowded.  Noisy.  But still undeniably beautiful.  There is a wildness there, sometimes hidden, sometimes not.  A place we have been many times in the past.  A place which still delights us.

Unknown to both Papa Bear and myself, I was experiencing the first wave of the latent affects of severe stress expressing themselves in extreme fatigue, weakness, lack of balance.

I say unknown to me, because while I knew that physically I wasn't feeling well, I thought that getting away from home, getting some rest, doing the things I enjoy, taking pictures and more pictures and more pictures would cure me of my symptoms.  At that time, I had no idea that my physical condition would continue to get worse, until I had no choice but to go to bed and stay there ... for as long as it took to get grounded again.

Yet, even with all the physical problems, we still had a good time.  Papa Bear has, as noted previously, been a brick.  A solid presence in my storm.  My anchor.  Even, if you will indulge a flight of fancy, my lighthouse in the darkness of my night.

Realizing how tired and shaky I was, we bought sandwiches at the local food mart and took them to the lighthouse point where Papa Bear found a secluded spot, sheltered from people, where we could eat, relax, be alone together and just watch; letting the beauty of the place take over our senses.

The entire Tobermorey area, especially on the Georgian Bay side, is littered with rocky outcroppings.  This is one of the reasons that I love to visit this area, which happens to be only some three or four hours from our den.


From our secluded vantage point, nestled among the rocks, I could see - and take pictures of - the various scenery, watch the people float past, see the boats going to and fro - some out into the lake; others coming back past us to port in Little Tub Harbour.

Behind me, the lighthouse, now disused, paint peeling but still standing tall and strong dominating the strip of land, rose like the beacon in distress that it once was.

In this place, at this time, I felt secure.  Loved.  Protected.  Safe.  Physically wrecked but still able to enjoy the moment.

And isn't that what life is really all about?  Enjoying the moment?  No matter the circumstances?  Finding beauty, peace, serenity wherever and whenever it presents?  Not only in the tranquil moments and places, but also in the wildness?  Amongst the craggy rocks of our existence?  With the people we truly love and who love us in return? 

Hmmm .... now where can the two bears go this year?