Comfort for the Apocalpyse: Issue 8, Is it canning season yet?
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Canning season I am swimming in the bay across from our house, out to the reef which is covered in water at high tide. It is evening, around 8, and I pull myself up onto the rocks for a rest before swimming back to shore. If I’m lucky, I might see Orca whales in the Georgia Strait, though it’s more likely that a curious seal will pop up to look at me. It’s too early for true sunset, but the sky is heading towards dusk and I shiver a bit against the evening air. When I clamber back down off the reef rocks and submerge myself again I wonder how long I can stay in. I don’t want to worry my husband Brian, back at the house, who waits for my return from these solo swims, but at the same time I know that soon enough the days will get cooler, and this activity will come to an end for another year.
Comfort for the Apocalpyse: Issue 8, Is it canning season yet?
Comfort for the Apocalpyse: Issue 8, Is it…
Comfort for the Apocalpyse: Issue 8, Is it canning season yet?
Canning season I am swimming in the bay across from our house, out to the reef which is covered in water at high tide. It is evening, around 8, and I pull myself up onto the rocks for a rest before swimming back to shore. If I’m lucky, I might see Orca whales in the Georgia Strait, though it’s more likely that a curious seal will pop up to look at me. It’s too early for true sunset, but the sky is heading towards dusk and I shiver a bit against the evening air. When I clamber back down off the reef rocks and submerge myself again I wonder how long I can stay in. I don’t want to worry my husband Brian, back at the house, who waits for my return from these solo swims, but at the same time I know that soon enough the days will get cooler, and this activity will come to an end for another year.