A Canadian Naturist

The world through a naturist's lens


I don’t know if this site is active anymore. I can’t access it via my wordpress portal. I want to alert all of my followers – there are 103 of you who are registered – that I can’t contact you directly to tell you that I am moving this site, intact with all comments and likes, to a new URL.


I won’t take down this site. It will stay with this being the last post, until and if the myriad problems are resolved.

I look forward to your joining me at the new site where life continues.

New Cyber Home

December 1st – This has always been a special day for me. There is something about this day, especially in the past few years, that has caused it to stand out even more. First, For the past forty plus years, this has traditionally been the day we set up our Christmas tree and set out all the decorations. Traditionally is an important word which does not mean “always.” This year, we set it up two days ago as we will be away from our prairie home for almost two weeks in December because of visiting family. As well, in the past, there have been two occasions when we were out of country, once to Cuba and once to Mexico during the Christmas season. The four years in China still had us setting up some sort of Christmas decoration so that we could feel a connection with all of our family and friends in North America and elsewhere.

For the past six years, I have been an avid participant in NaNoWriMo. The last day of writing for that challenge is November 30th. December 1st then becomes the start of a more relaxed approach to the work-in-progress [WIP] that had begun on November 1st. Yesterday, I ended up with 52,893 words for that WIP. I imagine that before I finish that story, which I am already in the rewrite stage, there will easily be another 20,000 or more words added. It’s just the way it is when you return to the initial draft and find all sorts of holes and missing pieces. And, it’s all good.

This year, December 1st also the first day this site is viewed from a new web-host provider. I wasn’t happy with the last provider and this one has already made a difference in my satisfaction levels. However, there had been one glitch in the process of shifting from one host to the next. I lost all the posts written since November 12th. This wasn’t the first time I have lost posts. Since few, if any, of my posts are vital, the losses are not life-changing. I won a new provider and I lost a few blog posts. And now, with a new month and a new provider, I am ready to continue my shared journey with you, my readers.

On another note, I am using a different URL for this post while I wait for problems to be resolved on the /naturistlens/ page. Perhaps I will remain a this page – if it is necessary. All the old posts have been imported. The only thing missing would be the statistical history, which is of no interest to readers. I have had 150,000+ page views since 2016. The views from 2009-2016 are lost somewhere in time. But then again, are these things all that important?

Early Winter on the Prairies

Well, it had to happen sooner or later, but why not later is my question. Not only the Canadian prairies, but most of Canada have found winter has arrived with no intentions of leaving for many, many, many months. So what is a naturist to do but somehow find a way to enjoy indoor occasions for being clothing free. Of course, a few who are perhaps not all there will take the challenge to be bare out there in the snow and cold. Of course, I’m not talking about myself. Nope, not me. I’m content to sit by the window and enjoy the view, perhaps with a good book in my hand. I’ve proof of this as you can see in the photo.

However, almost as soon as I sit down, the outdoors calls to me and I find myself testing my limits. Not too cold? [debatable that I have good judgment here] Well perhaps it is a good time to shovel some snow. I must confess that I did need my boots and gloves and a tuque. After all, I am 70 years old and a bit frail.

On another note, I am currently in day 12 of the NaNoWriMo challenge and have passed the 20,000 word mark with relative ease. I am on pace to finish the challenge several days early if all goes well. Naturally, I am still doing all of my writing while au naturel. It is the way it is in our house. The truth is, my spouse rarely sees clothing on me unless it is meal time. Dressing for dinner is de rigeur, oh that and also helping prepare the meal when we work together. Another cup of coffee, and it’s time to get back to the novel. And yes, those are wool socks on my feet. Sanity must prevail.

Back Home and Loving It

Back home again, at least for two months

I am lucky. There is little doubt about that. I get to travel, I get to write, I have time for nudity in my life, I have an incredible life partner who accepts my being a bird of a different feather. Hell, even my neighbours are accepting of my being a naturist and a writer. Of course, I don’t flaunt my nudity and that is likely the key to maintaining good relations with our neighbour friends. They get to see me, in context when I am nude – writing, in the garden area, relaxing – never in a situation that is aggressive or suggestive or containing implied sexual innuendo.

winter nudity on the prairies

Of course, as I returned to the quick descent into winter here on the Canadian prairies, there is next to no time for outdoor nudity remaining other than pushing physical limits for nudity in winter. That means no nudity when it is windy outdoors. Snowing is okay if it isn’t a blizzard. I often shovel snow after a snowfall while nude in our back yard. All that is needed are winter boots, a tuque, and warm gloves. So indoor nudity is what remains. The best part is when it is sunny with the sunshine pouring in the front window. Then, I stretch out like a cat to catch the warmth of the sun.

On a different note. November is just days away, and that means a month of writing every day with the intent of writing 50,000 words or more during the calendar month. I finally came up with a plan of sorts. After being in Europe, with much of it a journey of discovery about roots to the past, I am going to add to the story I am working on with a prequel. I want to begin in the very distant past, in the days before the Iberian tribes migrated to present day Scotland, a people that became known as the Picts. In the 600s, those same Picts had a migration to the Somme River valley in France, a fact that is still evident with the music of bagpipes still being found today. Perhaps that was where the name Picardy came from, the new land of the Pictish people. The only way that I can think of telling this story is through the eyes and voice of a man that is as old as Father Time.

Now, all I needed to do was to come up with a cover for the novel project. I first thought of using the image above, one of me without glasses and more of a beard. Then, I began to doubt the wisdom of that and thought of using a different face, one that looked much older such as this one. Of course, I would feel comfortable with either image being used with the time as shown here. Now, this is where you, the reader come in. Which is your choice for the book cover image? My feelings won’t be hurt if you choose the long bearded man that has a hint of Santa thrown in. I look forward to your comments.

I Get By With The Help Of My Friends

I dare to call myself a naturist even though I am not nude all the time. When I am nude, I am typically by myself. When I am nude with others around, typically it is just with my wife. On occasion, I am nude with a few others present, if only for a short while, with people who are neighbours who are used to this eccentric old man who keeps losing his clothing. A few times a year, I meet others at what I could best call my home naturist club, Green Haven Sun Club.

I’m an introvert. Typology I test as an INFP, the rarest kind of personality type. Even though there aren’t that many of us, it seems that it isn’t so rare for writers, being an introvert. For many of us, it is about finding our voice and celebrating it. Like other introverts, making friends is a slow process. We count ourselves lucky to have one friend in the face-to-face world which seems to be overloaded with extroverts, people who gravitate to people and know how to hold their own and often even become the centre of attention because of their personalities.

I have one very close friend, my best friend, the woman I married. I can’t imagine life without her. In the face-to-face world, I have friendly neighbours. How friendly would they be to me if my wife wasn’t in the picture? Likely they would still be just passing faces who say hello when passing on the street. Yet, because of my best friend, they have become my friends as well.

Thanks to social media – don’t you just love that term? Social media – I have found other friends. Somehow, I have the energy to “socialize” with a number of others. Three men have become very good friends, two of whom I have now met in the face-to-face world. Meeting them face-to-face has validated what was assumed due to online conversations over the years. A few women have become friends as well, though not to the same degree as the three men. Perhaps it has to do with gender differences, perhaps it has to do with me, or them. The fact that I am a man who is married might also figure into that equation. I’ll likely never find out.

Yesterday, I got to meet the second of the three men whom I count as friends. These two men are both authors with whom I have been in conversations with for six years. The third man is a newer friend. Somehow, I have the feeling that sometime in the future we will meet as well.

There are other men and women who are more distant friends. Strangely enough, all are naturists. Perhaps over the years, more of them will gravitate to becoming closer friends. Now as I think of it, I realize that I am now blessed with friends, a strange feeling for an introvert.

Last Night in Amsterdam

WesterPark, Amsterdam
Herman Makkink, Culture Park, Amsterdam
Along a street in Amsterdam
In an antique store along Albert Cuypmarkt, Amsterdam

This final photo is of me, taken earlier today. As usual, I do find some time to be clothing free. However, in Amsterdam, it has been much less so as we have a room in an apartment which has reduced the opportunities significantly. At least there is always the private bedroom, and those rare moments when we have the apartment to ourselves. I am hoping that Arnhem proves to be different in many ways, the least of which is the opportunity for more time spent without clothing.

Next post is from Arnhem, The Netherlands.

Amsterdam – Red Lights Are Not About Naturism

Well, our second day in Amsterdam and I am blown away with just how much there is to see. It leaves an oldster like me too tired at the end of the day to even think about trying to stay awake until 10 pm. Yesterday we walked 18 kilometres. There was no rain and we took advantage of the fact. Today we only walked about 11 kilometres, with the last three in rain. Fortunately, we had purchased public transport passes for our time here in Amsterdam which allowed us to take the subway train back to the apartment and save us another seven kilometres of walking in the rain. It pays to think ahead and we have more days left to finish exploring this city.

Interesting finds here in the city. It wasn’t long before we reached the National Monument as we headed into the city from the train station. Much to my surprise, the monument featured a nude Christ crucified. But then again, this is the same Amsterdam that has a world-famous Red Light District. Most of our walks took us through Vondel Park and Rembrandt Park.

Today, the Red Light District was on our walking tour. As the image here shows, the district comes by its name honestly as there literally are red lights above thin windows which are also doors. Behind each window is a small space for a woman to offer herself to potential passing customers. In all honestly, the whole thing felt wrong and creepy to me. It’s not that I don’t like sex, but . . .

Well, enough of that. Now it’s time for wine with the love of my life, and then some planning for tomorrow’s adventures.

Den Haag, Nederland – The Hague, The Netherlands

Confused gender identity?

We left early this morning to catch a train to The Hague. A half hour on the train had us arrive in the city. What a difference in the feel of this city in comparison to Rotterdam. Somehow it felt less foreign, or should I say less reserved and distanced. This isn’t said in any way to disparage Rotterdam. Perhaps it had more to do with the rain stopping and feeling free to wander. Regardless, the hours spent roaming around the city, including a stop for lunch and a second stop for Mochaccino [caffè mocha] , disappeared faster than we wanted. However, 15 kilometres later, we were ready to get back on the train to return to our studio suite in Rotterdam.

My main objective was the Palace of Peace where the International Tribunal deals with court cases that often have to do with war crimes. Watching Crossing Borders had stirred my interest in visiting this site. Standing in front of the palace that serves as courtroom for making the world a more peaceful and safer place definitely was the highlight.

I hadn’t thought that The Hague would provide for much in the way of nude statuary, but was pleasantly surprised. Even the King’s residential palace in The Hague had a frieze which had numerous images of nude men in combat and working [image above].

I saw another building which had an inscription in Dutch that read, mijn schilt en de betrouwen sijt ghij o godt mijn hee or my shield and trust are yours oh my lord. It was an expression that speaks of a man who honours God. Yet below those words were two stone statues of nude men, a nude woman between them, and a fourth statue with a clothed woman with a nude boy. But, since this is the Nederland, attitudes to the naked human body are more matter-of-fact and less puritan than is found in North America.

Next stop is Amsterdam.

It’s Raining in Rotterdam

Operating windmill at Kinderdijk, Netherlands

Well, as I write up this post, it is raining and raining with a will. It has been raining all day, enough to convince us to take a day off from our constant trekking around cities and parks, and pathways. Since we landed in Paris, just over three weeks ago, we have walked more than 360 kilometres. The locals like to joke is that it rains 366 days a year, and no, I’m not making this joke up. Of course, it’s all exaggeration as we had an incredible day with no rain yesterday when we walked through the countryside for a total of 18 kilometres through the Kinderdijk area, the famous Dutch windmill site.

Enjoying the warmth
Behind Humanitas Mullerpier

Seriously though, it rains a lot, on the average 188 days a year according to my research. Add to the rain, some wind and temperatures hovering around 10 Celsius for a daytime high and overnight temps dropping to 6 C., it isn’t exactly touring time if one has the option of staying indoors, in warmth. On our first day in Rotterdam, we wandered quite a bit of the city, from Delf Haven district to the City Park area. Of course, as always when inside our own accommodations, I waste few minutes in getting comfortably naked.

#89 Schiedamse Vest

Yesterday, once back in the city, we decided to take a walk along the Witte de Withstraat and saw a building with stone mural-statues at the corner of Schiedamse Vest street. Of the four carved images, one was of a male. All were nude, however the male had a caduceus discretely hiding his manhood. Not so for the women.

I’ll be on the lookout for more statuary for the rest of our stay in Rotterdam, and in The Hague which we hope to visit, weather permitting.

A Few Foreign Images Where Clothing is Absent

Mercury, the messenger of the gods
Anything but a dick pic in Rotterdam
Mary had a little lamb in Antwerp
The illusion of being clothed in Ghent
« Older posts

© 2020 A Canadian Naturist

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑