It was cool when I left. At one point along my ride, the wind stinging my face, in a not unpleasant way, brought back a memory of sitting on the dock at dear lake Winnetou on a beautiful, crisp Fall day. It was clear as could be this memory and brought a smile to my face. Further along, I smelled the blossoming Cottonwoods. That too took me to Winnetou - memories of walking through the woods, feeling as familiar as ever, this feeling even tangible if that's possible- the impact of odour on memory is just so remarkable. Near the top I was riding on the edge of the road, close to treetops from the land below the cliffs, the wind was blowing fiercely. Our cottage was on a piece of land that also had a cliff's edge - and we always heard the wind in the treetops that ended up being at the same height as the house. That is one of my fondest memories of all, sitting out on the veranda, listening to the wind in the trees, bending gently, dappled by sun...
There are days when the images and sensations of Winnetou and the cottage come back so strong it's as if I were there an hour ago. I'm grateful for these memories, for connecting with something here - like Mount Royal - and having that take me back to my beloved lake and cottage. I pray that my grief, prolonged as it was, is not rekindled this year. It's been a hard 9 years, a hard process of loss. And yet, even though ... I always smile when I smell, feel, hear ..... when I am taken back.
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