We moved last weekend and, more than once, I found myself feeling nostalgic. Not for the condo – I don’t seem to be sad to see it go – but for Victoria. Even though we’ll still be here for 3 months and 15 days, I was already missing it.
I think it was partly the weather. It was a nice, kind of sunny, day and I was imagining all the things that we wouldn’t be doing this summer.
No riding with the Fat Bastards. We’ve ridden together most weekends for almost 10 years. Saturday would have been a perfect riding day – crisp and probably not too wet, or maybe wet, I wouldn’t have cared. I hope that we can find a bit of riding while we’re away so that I can feel that fabulous feeling when it all comes together on the bike.
No walking to downtown for no reason – even if the reason is always to stop at the pub for a pint or two. I think we’ll do plenty of walking, in plenty of towns, and drink plenty of beers that will remind us of those great unplanned afternoons at the pub.
No running along the waterfront at ‘the perfect time of day’ – for me, the perfect time of day is that magical dusky time right before dark falls. We may not run while we’re away but that magical dusky time falls all over the world.
The feeling passed fairly quickly, and it hasn’t returned since, but I think it will. I think it should. As exciting as it is to be setting of on such a fabulous journey, it doesn’t mean that I won’t miss my already fabulous life.