Beyond Today

Beyond Today

Carefully scanning each day’s horizons for signs of cloud or storm would be a part of his life that would leave a hole. Not a little tear, not a blind spot but a huge gaping hole. Even so, Courtney smiled. He had ridden the prairies for years, worked his ranch faithfully and, with his wife, had raised a fine family. His wife was gone now. His daughter and his son both married and away in their own lives. With all of them gone, loneliness had settled on his shoulders. At first Courtney just shrugged it off, caring for his prized horses and the few head of cattle he still kept. And it worked. For a while. He would get into his new pickup, go to town and shoot pool with men he had known since high school. Everything felt flat. Courtney felt useless. The balance that family and his ranch had given him kept tilting, leaving him dizzy and unsettled. The idea came slowly when he listened to his friends visiting about their travels. It dawned slowly when he was on his morning ride, breathing deeply of the crisp air. He had married young. He and Esther had had big plans to travel and explore the world once the kids were grown and gone. Esther had died too, too young and left him behind. It was not too late for adventure and he was not too old for adventuring. He hadn’t seen Vancouver Island yet, hadn’t seen the Maritimes and so very many places in between. So he got busy. Not ready to sell, he found a young family to take over the ranch. He traded in the pickup for a travel trailer and set up his computer system in his new rolling home. Courtney spoke to his banker to make certain his finances would pay for it all. Saying good bye to his horses was hard. He promised them all he’d be back. He could still scan each day’s horizons, but it would be on the edge of a cliff, or behind the wheel as he drove down the highway. Maybe….just maybe…..he could fill a big part of that gaping hole.

“One does not discover new lands without consenting 

to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.”

~ André Gide