We (the collective we) do this all the time, don’t we? We say, “We should go away for the weekend.” Or, “I need a vacation.” We look wistfully at pictures of serene (or exciting) places and reminisce about the last time we had a proper vacation. And then we sigh and carry on.

I’m horrible about doing this. I work for an airline and the only time I used my flight benefits in the last four months was to go to Blissdom (which was handy, to be sure). People I work with go to Vegas for the weekend or to the next province for the afternoon. Or to Amsterdam for 3 days.

I’m not quite that ambitious, but we have talked about going to San Diego for a weekend. I’d like to go back home and see friends and family. I’d really like to book myself a tropical vacation but it might be a while before that happens. (Although… baby-moon? Maybe.)

As we were coming up to Easter I started to muse aloud about going away for the weekend. Just an hour from here, into the mountains. We needed a change of scenery.

So we went.


Frozen, but not for long.


As is typical, it was a last-minute decision. My mom had come to visit and my brother had gone to Australia (for two days – on flight benefits. See what I mean?) and my pregnant-with-twins sister-in-law was here on her own. So we decided to take them with us.


Somewhere in there, they're fly fishing under the coal bridge.


It took me a while to find a place that (a) had a vacancy and (b) would be able to sleep our odd assortment of family. But I found one, we shipped the dog to my mother-in-law’s and went.

We didn’t even do a lot – none of the adventurous things I had been pondering. We went for dinner. We went for lunch. We hid Easter eggs. And we walked.


A ha! O ho! Tracks in the snow. Whose are these tracks and where do they go?*


Out there in the silence, with occasional sounds of crunching snow, it’s easy to feel like a mere speck in the universe. Other things fade away and life’s most basic things are what feel important. Like sunshine and flowing water. Like tracks of animals who came before and who worry less about work-life balance and more about the balance of existence.



Every kid has to rattle a stick on a bridge once in his life.


And like the first time a small boy rattles a stick on a metal bridge.


Who was Daisy? And did she find peace in the mountains?


This environment suggests quiet and observation. It makes me stop and think. And it leaves me with a feeling I can’t describe.



No words necessary.


Which is fine, because sometimes no words are necessary.


*For bonus points, name that (very good) children’s book.



  1. What stunning photos!

    (I so love that you got away!)

  2. Great pictures Robin, and it sounds like a wonderful getaway.

  3. The photos you took are amazing!! This trip sounds like the perfect medicine.

  4. Stunning photographs! You’re a natural :)

  5. Beautiful!

    If I had all those flight benefits I don’t think you could keep me in the same place!!

  6. Michelle says:

    Your words, as always, are beautiful. Your pictures, however, are perfect for this post. I especially love the graffiti heart on the bridge. It’s a simple symbol left by a previous visitor who felt the strength of the place as well.

    PS love the gruffalos

  7. Good for you for taking advantage of your flight benefits. I would love to be able to just go somewhere whenever I wanted.

  8. Beautiful pictures. I’m sure you created some beautiful memories too. Sometimes it is just the simple act of a change of scenery (which is often easier said than done!).

  9. Love the photos

  10. I am glad you got away. A break is always nice. Very sweet!

  11. It’s so wonderful that you had a chance to get away :) Beautiful photos!


  1. […] credit: The Ilr on Flickr  4. Perspective – In any form. A new point of view or a change of scenery does wonders for my state of mind, which is one reason I love to travel. Nothing challenges my […]

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