Through a Naturist Lens

This morning, en route to two chores that were required out of town, I decided to pay a return visit to a highway rest stop not far from town which had been my naturist “go-to” site back in 2011. It was different this time. The rest stop is now barricaded and the place is in a sad state of repair. However, the fence is still standing strong as it does its job of containing the cattle that pasture there from time to time. The row of trees is still there as well.

The major changes are within me. I am much more confident and my hair has turned silver. And, though it might not be noticeable, I am trimmer having lost ten pounds over these eleven years since then. My skin is still dark.

I don’t want to return to the past, it is enough to have moments such as this one where the past is acknowledged and honoured. My present life is so much better. One would almost think that time heals and one becomes wiser. The year 2011 was a tough year for me. It was the year my mother died. That event chased me back into psychoanalysis and that led me to becoming a pilgrim who can’t seem to stop wandering around the world. In a way, I would have to say it was a time of pivotal change in who I was and how I would lead my life going forward.

What event changed your life?

Free-hiking on a perfect morning was all that I could have hoped for with the only drawback being spear grass which dug into my socks and decided to bite me. I walked 8.8 km at an 11 km/hr pace which is relatively decent for walking. Half of the walking was on a dirt path separating two fields planted with wheat and lentils. The second half was through rolling hills following an old, unused trail to reach a hilltop that had very old farm equipment parked. Joining the two ancient pieces was a newer piece of equipment seen in the photo.

I chose to walk in the morning as it is going to be a hot afternoon, too hot for enjoying a hike. I took a litre of water with me and had no trouble finishing it by the time I arrived back at my truck which had been parked by four large grain bins. Usually, I walk with trekking poles, but not this morning. It’s good to change things up once in a while. Today’s walk makes it the fifth free-hike of the season. It’s been a good year so far for free-hiking.

Now that I am back home, it is time to return to writing and editing with perhaps another audio recording of the Pilgrim novel.

I have to admit I love summers at our home on the Canadian prairies. The fact that we live in a small town of about five hundred people and that many of these people are gone to their cottages or seasonal camping spots has meant that the place has a silence that is rarely disturbed by human-generated noises.

We could be staying at a seasonal site at my daughter’s fifth-wheel trailer near a lake. However, we then would have to live with the noise of the surrounding campers. In our yard, the only noise comes from Wrens, Robins, Doves, Sparrows, and occasional Grackles and Finches.

My temperament, my personality is primarily introverted. It’s not that I don’t like people. I would just rather that they weren’t always so hyper and noisy and demanding of attention. I can only handle so much socialising before I shut down and become almost deaf. The same thing happens when I find myself “shopping.”

If I am alone it is a quick in and out with no browsing. If I am not alone, it doesn’t take long before I zone out and become a zombie. My wife doesn’t particularly enjoy shopping with me when she is in the mood to browse.

Being a writer fits with my personality. I can handle long periods of silence unlike my wife who needs to have at least a radio squawking in the background. My writing lets me peer into another dimension. I can listen into conversations in this dimension, but not as you would think. I see conversation. The characters and the worlds that hold them are unaware of my presence on the other side of the door that separates my physical world from theirs. And, I like it that way. Whenever I want, I can turn away from that portal and rejoin the real world.

It is a gloriously sunny day here on the Canadian prairies. A dump of rain has left the backroads where I tend to hike a muddy mess. I drove out to check, hoping that I could sneak in a little five kilometre hike, but alas, mud-caked hiking shoes in just three steps on the partially gravelled section. I knew that the 100% dirt trail with its ups and downs would be totally unenjoyable. As a result, I returned home with hopes of another naturist hike in a few more days. I did manage a hike two days ago, so at least there is that.

The garden is coming along and we have had two relatively large pickings of strawberries from our tiny patch. Cucumbers are also being enjoyed and baby tomatoes are appearing on the vines. And, due to the recent rain showers, mosquitoes are back in town – unwelcome guests.

There is a bit of a kerfuffle on Twitter which soon had voices getting defensive, some even suggesting that perhaps I’m not a naturist at all as I don’t embrace censorship. Though I don’t agree with people posting porn [I block them when they react to my posts and images], I do defend their right to post. Though I don’t like spread-legs photos by those who are for all intents and purposes, naturists/nudists, I do defend their right to post.

When there are gatekeepers with rulebooks, the world is divided intentionally. I can think of divisions between conservative and liberal worldviews, between Caucasians and POC where “pureblood” is a mantra. I can think of religious divisions, divisions that fuel extreme reactions and violence. Who gives a shit what religion [or none], what colour of skin, what party a person believes in, or sexual identity?

I don’t sit on a fence. I have my beliefs and values. I just don’t foist them on others. I say what I think whether others would rather I remain silent or just smile and nod my head mouthing polite, meaningless words. My books reflect this. And as the image says, I hope my books are good enough to survive long enough to be read. And undoubtedly, I will become a banned author. LOL!

I am waiting for the clouds to break as I intend on getting out for a naturist hike. It has been a while since my last hike au naturel. The weather has not been very cooperative with the third coolest [and windiest] spring on record. At least we have had sunshine while the wind howls as it has allowed me to get a bit of a tan. The garden is doing well, including the new perennials that will add some extra colour to the backyard.

I will be at home for the next four weeks and hope to get more work done with my audiobook project. Come August, I will have all of my family arrive for a family reunion – tee-shirts included. September has a wedding in store for us with a grandson getting married.

Now, you might have noticed that I have avoided saying anything even remotely serious. No psychology, no politics, and no social issues. That said, I do hope that you seriously consider protecting yourself as the latest version of Covid has arrived and it appears to be the most dangerous variant yet. Don’t wait for governments to tell you what to do.

Don’t swallow conspiracy theories as they won’t provide you with any protection. When in doubt, wear a mask when gathering in groups. Eat healthy, get some outdoor exercise if possible, and consider carefully the idea of a vaccine. Though almost everyone around me has had Covid, I haven’t had it, nor have my friends who are also fully vaxxed with two boosters [we are all old fogies over seventy].

Take care out there, and dare to be bare.

It’s a dreary day as far as weather is concerned. As such, there is no chance that I’ll be going outside for a naturist hike or to sunbathe in my backyard. Windy, wet, and quite cool makes for an indoors type of day.

The first thing I did was to list my little truck, a Chev Colorado, for sale. I love the truck, but it is rarely used. Our Toyota Prius is more than enough for our driving needs. If I need the use of a truck, there are people in town who will be more than willing to haul away our branches and whatever, especially for a reasonable price.

It has been a while since my last post as I have been at my eldest daughter’s home in the north country. She has a modern log cabin home that is very comfortable. Our visit came to an end when it was time for my daughter and her husband to return to work following the national holiday weekend here in Canada.

Though it wasn’t a place or time for me to be nude, the company and activities were well worth the effort of wearing clothing. The prevalence of mosquitoes while I played at being a lumberjack with my son-in-law was another good reason to be clothed from head to toe. The live deep in the heart of a northern forest near a slow-moving river, the perfect breeding grounds for vicious northern mosquitoes. Now that I am back home, clothing is only worn for public appearances.

I will be returning to editing and recording my first naturist novel. It is a project that will be taking me months to complete. Now, it’s time to hear a few words from you.

School is out for the summer on the prairies. In two days, our country will celebrate being a free, democratic country. With any luck, I will be at my first child’s home in the distant north to be with her and her husband for the long weekend. If this comes to be reality, there will be no time or opportunity to enjoy being clothing free. Canada isn’t that free. There are rules that are national, provincial, and perhaps more important, social that govern us.

As I watch the world turn while the years slip by, I see that freedom is only partial. As long as one fits in with the majority, no one cares what one does or says. Yet, that really isn’t true. There are noisy voices that cannot stand anyone being other than a clone of their beliefs and lifestyle. They want all the power and none of the responsibility. We see that in the unfolding accounts coming out of the USA with regards to the January 6th attempted coup. What to believe and what to reject? I don’t think it matters as truth is not going to disclosed on either side of the growing divide in that country.

The same is happening here in Canada. We had a “freedom convoy” that went to the nation’s capital city with the published and express purpose of taking down an elected government and replacing it with the organisers of the convoy. Their concept of freedom and freedoms lost boggles the mind, especially when the motivation is to deny the majority of Canadians their freedoms. Again, it is be like me or hit the highway. If you are too loud in your protest against us, we will threaten you with death. That is the voice of the freedom convoy as it once again makes its way to the nation’s capital.

Is the naturist community insulated or isolated from these competing visions for our North American countries? The short answer is no. In truth, we are just as divided. The only thing that we hold in common is a respect for the naked human body. The reasons for that respect are not all the same, nor should they be. That is the whole point of freedom. We don’t have to be the same, nor should any one group gain power to deny another person’s freedom.

This isn’t supposed to be a political post, but one that speaks to the complexity of being human. I don’t want power over anyone. I also don’t want anyone to have power over me. It’s that simple. I want to live as a spiritual being whose religion is nature and whose church is the Earth. We can live in peace if we want this goal.

It is raining, a nice constant gentle rain. The rain is encouraging me to stay indoors rather than go out for yet another walk. If the forecast is correct, tomorrow will be the same. The rain is just what the doctor ordered for my garden and lawns. The local farming community is breathing a sigh of relief as it looks as though the drought is over.

One of the downsides is the roads are becoming muddy which means that my naturist hiking trails might become impassible for Tuesday’s World Naked Hiking Day. Still, I am not ruling out the chance of going free-hiking on Tuesday, at least for a short hike.

My audio recording project is going well. I have recorded three chapters and the fourth chapter is ready for recording. This chapter will be testing my story-telling skills as I will need to have a number of voices, including that of two women. One of the things about preparing a chapter for recording is to edit the chapter. A written story often contains too much information that gets in the way of “hearing” a story.

How do I edit? Well, since it is going to be an audiobook, I use my microphone and headphones and read. I stop when something doesn’t “fit” for me as a storyteller. The result is both the same story line and a noticeably different version of that same story.

I have a few people listening to chapters as they are produced to make sure that I don’t go too far off the story line, and to alert me to issues of voice such as popping my p’s and b’s. Another issue I need to watch carefully is the timing. I can’t rush the flow of words as older members of the reading community need just a fraction more time to process and follow the story. Equally a problem is pacing too slow. That is where story-telling experience comes in handy – finding natural pauses [here is where commas become important].

If any of you who read here want to become a “listener” who is willing to tell me what you think, just ask and I will borrow your ears.

Oh, before I go, Happy Father’s Day to all the men who take on the role of father, not just biological fathers.

It is going to rain in a few hours according to the weather forecast. I hope to have enough time to mow the lawn which is quite shabby at this point as I have not been cutting it because of a very long dry spell. Our area has somehow missed out on the rain that has fallen outside of a twenty-five kilometre radius from the town. Perhaps today is the day.

Yesterday I went for my second massage of the year. I only had one massage last year – blame it on Covid. As always, my masseuse doesn’t require me to be draped as she works deep into my muscles. It hurts when she finds the knots, but the results are well worth the temporary pain. I have a third massage already booked for sometime in July.

Today, I am going to tackle chapter two of the audio version of the Pilgrim novel. As far as chapter one is concerned, as one listener put it, when comparing the original print version to the audio:

“I found many of the differing parts in the new, audio Chapter 1 to be an improvement over the original chapter …”

However, the review did voice that there were a few instances where the changes weren’t that successful. Overall, I take it that is going well. I am still open to having a few of you also critique the audio efforts. Just let me know by some means and I will send you the nineteen minute audio file for Chapter 1 of A Small Company of Pilgrims.

Another hike, clothing free, happened yesterday morning. At nine and a quarter kilometres, it was my longest free hike so far this year. It wasn’t supposed to be that long.

I took my usual route to reach the hills, well a bit of a longer route as I had parked my truck by an oil well that added a kilometre of walking. Once I reached the fence, I turned to walk along the fence heading east, something I had never done before. There was no path and the ground was riddled with gopher holes and larger badger holes which made the need for me to pay attention even greater than usual.

I reached an old building which I determined would be my halfway point and a good place to set up my tripod and get a few photos of the new location. Then, I packed stuff away into my small backpack and set off on the return journey. I wore my pack on my front, making sure my shorts were ready should I be surprised by someone on an ATV. As I was approaching a turn, I noticed my shorts were missing. I knew I had to backtrack and find them as they were my favourite hiking shorts and I would need them. The same thing happened to me last year during one of my hikes. I sometimes have a problem staying present in life.

I put everything down and made my way back towards the old building at a jog. I was almost back when I found the shorts. I held them securely while I jogged back to retrieve the daypack. Reaching it, I wasted no time in putting the shorts into the backpack with a light shirt. I returned to the truck without further incident.

Someday, I hope to finally learn to be always present in whatever I do. The problem is, that I tend to slip into walking meditation when on hikes. Maybe that is what being a pilgrim is all about.