I can now look up from my laptop and see the morning sun glistening on the lake. I have soft yellow hills in the distance and vineyards within minutes. A change of scene.
Some of my views are breathtaking and I understand why this part of British Columbia is often used as a substitute for Tuscany in the movies. The honour guard columns of vines marching down the slopes are mesmerizing. We are staying in an old farmhouse which is surrounded by a cherry orchard - I consider this Anton Chekhov's revenge for me never liking his plays. An occasional vehicle can be heard but the sounds heard most often are birds and crickets.
We stayed at this same house last year and I can write here. Really write. My children head down to the lake and I stay here tapping away as my eyes drink in different scenery and my writing takes a fresh breath.
Not such a bad thing, really. Time to reflect, time to breath, time to write. And in a room with a view.