Perspectives

Adrian's Story

I WON’T BE RETIRING for at least another thirty-five years or so but each time I visit home from the big city of Vancouver I come to appreciate Campbell River’s natural beauty.

The first thing that happens as I leave the mainland and hop on the ferry is that I start to calm down. The frantic highways and buildings disappear and my whole body begins to relax. The ferry ride is like a deep, warm massage. And when we hit shore an hour and a half later, I’m breathing easier. As I make my way up-island I realize that trees of every shape and colour (Arbutus! Evergreen! Cedar! Maple!), blue lakes and white-capped mountains surround me. After months of city living I forget how much I miss being encircled by these clean, pristine giants.

And then, I’m home.

Mom starts pampering me with real food (a college student can’t enough) and touring me around her flourishing garden. I smell ferns, wildflowers and wild blackberries. We’re lucky enough to live beside the ocean so the salty warm sea air fills my lungs. Eagles and crows fight for space in the towering trees. I take a drink of cool water from our tap and gone is the metallic tangy taste that city water always seems to have.

But I know that I’m truly home when we go for our daily walk around the Campbell River itself.

If it’s Fall I’ll gaze at the spawning salmon that struggle against the current; those thousands of Salmon in unison paralysed in the stream, fins slapping and unable to advance. I’ll breathe in. Men in waders will fumble out onto the mossy stones to cast their lines into the water. The pre-winter crisp will burn my chest. I’ll smell the fish eggs; the sopping maple trees; the drooping cedar boughs drinking the crystal pools and the clean grey rain soaking the forest canopy and earth.

This is the Campbell River.

And I’ll think: why can’t I retire a few years early?

Submitted by Adrian John Burrus