Ocean Reduced

There's no blue at all in these skies, turned so white with fog and haze and smoke from out west that I feel like a bird lost in the clouds. Sunlight really takes it out of me, the blinding haze of peak summer bringing on a steady exhaustion. I barely want to move, let alone hike, and each step feels like a monumental effort to make. But by the same token, I've learned to embrace the heartwaking experience of extremes. There are so many ways to crowd your senses out here. The endlessness in the view from a high vantage, the incredible stillness of a powerful ocean reduced to tiny ripples, and the sour scent of salt water lapping on warm beach rocks. I've had no trouble believing I belong wherever I am, however long I stay there. It's perhaps the greatest beauty in being a solitary soul. Your sense of fitting in doesn't have much to do with country, boundary, or culture. Instead, it's found in what happens when you're left alone in your surroundings. I insist on remembering, that when it comes to humans, the world is mostly an empty place.

July 14, 2025
Outram, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6455 of my daily journal.