A Quiet Pause Above the City

**A Quiet Pause Above the City**

Some days the world feels loud—too many thoughts, too many to-dos, too much noise inside your head. Then you find yourself here, on a rise just outside the city, looking down at Calgary spread out beneath a wide prairie sky.

The downtown towers catch the light, sharp and proud against the blue. Closer in, the low sprawl of dealerships, warehouses, and fast roads hums along like it always does. Traffic glides in steady rivers of silver and red. Farther out, green patches and distant evergreens soften the edges. And above it all, that enormous, calm sky.

You don’t need to do anything special. Just stand (or sit on the tailgate, or lean against the railing) and breathe. Let your eyes rest on the pattern of rooftops, the way the sunlight slides across glass, the small dark shapes of birds crossing the distance. The city keeps moving, but from up here it moves slowly, almost peacefully.

For a few minutes the knot in your chest loosens. The list of worries doesn’t disappear, but it quiets down enough that you can hear your own breathing again. That’s all this moment asks: to let you remember you’re still here, still part of something bigger than the day’s frustrations.

It won’t fix everything. It never has to.  
But five minutes, ten minutes, of simply looking—letting the view hold you instead of the other way around—can feel like the kindest thing you’ve done for yourself all week.

I come back to places like this whenever I can. Not because life suddenly makes perfect sense, but because it reminds me I’m allowed to stop. To look. To feel small in the best possible way.

If you ever get the chance, pull over. Step out. Look.  
Even just for a little while.  
It helps more than you think.

A Sentimental Ode to Camping and Letting Go

Whispers of the Wild: A Sentimental Ode to Camping and Letting Go

In the relentless whirl of our modern lives—alarms blaring at dawn, screens flickering through the night, deadlines chasing us like shadows—we often forget the simple art of pausing. But oh, the sweet surrender of camping! It's more than pitching a tent or kindling a fire; it's a gentle rebellion against the rush, an invitation to rediscover the rhythm of the earth beneath our feet.

Imagine this: You seek out a hidden gem, perhaps a quiet spot like 40 Mile Park in Alberta, where the Bow River murmurs secrets to the cottonwoods, and the prairie sky stretches wide like an open heart. Not the crowded campgrounds with RVs humming like distant beehives, but a secluded nook where the only agenda is the sun's slow arc across the heavens. Here, you arrive not as a conqueror, but as a weary traveler, unloading your pack and letting the weight of the world slip from your shoulders like an old, forgotten coat.

As twilight drapes its velvet cloak, you unwind. The fire crackles softly, a storyteller weaving tales in sparks and smoke. No emails ping, no notifications demand your gaze. Instead, you stop—truly stop—and let the senses awaken. See the wildflowers nodding in the breeze, their petals a riot of color: golden buttercups, shy violets, bold lupines painting the meadow like an artist's dream. Bend close, inhale their delicate perfume, a fragrance untainted by city smog, carrying hints of earth and rain and quiet joy. In these moments, time unfolds not in minutes, but in breaths, in the rustle of leaves, in the distant call of a loon echoing over the water.

And here's the magic: In this letting go, we plant our own flowers, metaphorically speaking. Seeds of gratitude sown in the soil of stillness, blooming into renewed perspectives. A conversation by the campfire that mends a frayed bond, a solitary walk that sparks forgotten dreams, a night under stars that reminds us of our small, wondrous place in the cosmos. Camping isn't escape, it's embrace. It teaches us that in unplugging from the frenzy, we reconnect with ourselves, with loved ones, with the wild pulse of life that beats beyond our hurried paths.

So, dear wanderer, find your spot. Pack lightly, leave expectations behind, and venture forth. Let the campground be your sanctuary, where you unwind the knots of daily strife and weave new threads of peace. In the end, you'll return not just rested, but reborn, carrying the scent of wildflowers in your soul, ready to face the rush with a quieter, fuller heart.

 

Kananaskis Country Alberta - What Do You See?

This is Kananaskis Country, there are so many different locations you can go to in Kananaskis and there is always more for us to discover. I like to be out and about, it helps to clear my mind. There are more small journeys we wish to take before it gets too cold to do so, as we only have a tent that attaches to the back of our wagon. We do have a propane heater we can bring along, which we will, just to warm it up here and there.

We go to a place where we hope to find some wonderful learning adventures that we can share with you. I find my need to learn and discover great experiences is quite strong as I get older, I wonder if that is the same for many as they age as well?

Watched one of the YouTubers we regularly watch, he had just a short video this morning, I'm going to say he was very upset, a friend had lied to him, I totally understand how he feels, been there and done that. This is why we must all find our Peace out in Nature, or where we can find true peace.