"I'm from the the prairies, where you can watch you dog run away for a week."
This was my go-to line to describe where I was from when I lived and worked in the mountains. What my customers and new friends didn't know was is that I was hardly joking as I recited the line.
Don't get me wrong, I know how lucky I am to have so much space especially after visiting other countries. But it's something about looking to the horizon, and seeing a few buildings marking the city center way off in the distance that makes me feel uneasy.
Last week was reading week, and I jumped at the opportunity to high tail it out of here to head West. It was the first time in years that I drove to Alberta rather than flying.
As soon as we got into Banff, I immediately felt like I was home, despite my home never really being in the Rockies. I love the feeling of being confined. I love being able to see the outline of the mountains traced in the sky by the moonlight.
But let's not get overly poetic here.
Truthfully, I don't mind winter. I don't mind being outside... If I'm bundled up without any skin showing.
Since moving back the prairies I feel as though I am at a loss for winter activities, whereas before I could get up, go for a few runs at the hill and then head to work. Going to a "hill" anywhere near Winnipeg is hardly worth it, by the time you do up your bindings your fingers are frozen and 30 seconds later you're back on the chair. It's the worst.
*Sigh* I guess I'll have to continue to tide myself over by visiting BC and Alberta every once in awhile until the prairies grow some hills.