On my walk today, I noticed that the Victoria Day long weekend was in full swing.
I passed people on bicycles, tricycles, scooters and skateboards. Some were moving fast and others were taking their time, talking and walking, holding hands, pushing strollers.
I passed groups of young and old gathered on patios and porches, decks and in driveways. Some were set up for the long haul with umbrellas and padded chairs, coordinated fabrics, designer glassware. Some groups looked like they had met in that spot and conversation kept them there far longer than intended.
It was too difficult to count the different beverages I saw being consumed. I did feel a small bit of pride that the true north strong and free was being represented as it should, with beer outnumbering all others. Bottles and cans, frosted glasses and beer cozies were everywhere.
So many people said hello, waved, or nodded. I even got a Joey (from Friends) “how you doing” kind of greeting from a cute young thing that put a pep in my step for the next kilometer until the old body started getting tired from the faster pace.
It was perfect Victoria Day long weekend kind of weather. The sun was warm. The cool breeze masked just how strong the rays really are. I know that this weekend the evidence will be seen in pink skin next to white lines and farmer’s tans, shown proudly as evidence that one was there, enjoying the gateway weekend to summer.
I watched as people worked on boats and cars, lawns and gardens. Cut grass and lilacs, nature’s perfume, mixed with barbeque and suntan lotion are the unmistakable smells of this long weekend. The smile was on my face the whole way as I enjoyed these markers.
I was overwhelmed with the feeling of gratitude. Here I am, living in paradise, free to walk safely on this beautiful afternoon and be a part of this glorious community. To have time to enjoy it, knowing the only necessary task on the agenda is to have a cold beer myself, is a luxury. To have family and friends to be a part of this long weekend is priceless.
Whether you are at the cottage, gardening, relaxing with a good book, or even if you have had to work a part of this holiday, take a moment, just one moment, and recognize how lucky you are to be who you are and where you are. Because this moment is a gift, which is why, as the old saying goes, it is called the present. And, when you can, punch out, put the broom down, the hose away, the gardening tools back on the shelf, and get out on the porch, the deck or the patio, or on your feet or a bike, and go enjoy this wonderful weekend. That is what long weekends are all about.