If you leave Vancouver and follow the tracks north for 200 km, if you find your way thru the little village and some private land, if you double back on the railway road, you will come to a magical place of quiet contemplation.
Go sit on the bent cedar by the pond. Feel the wind move the tree.
Touch the bark. Alive, warm.
Hear the dragonflies swoop and buzz in the reeds, see the colours and reflections. Feel the season ending.
This is the time to write, to rest, to be quiet.
Out of reach of phones, radios, TVs and electricity. Those things can wait.