We are currently hosting our nephew from Canada here on Hilton Head Island. Shortly after his arrival this morning, while chatting in the sunshine on the deck overlooking Braddock Cove, he first shared with us that his son is traveling in Italy with his longtime girlfriend; then that his sister and her family are in Costa Rica, and finally that he himself will soon head to Florida to visit his father and stepmother. Coincidentally we received a midday message and photos from friends who just returned to Canada from Cancun. Earlier in the day, I had emailed my former physician in Australia, where he is celebrating his 70th birthday with his daughter, her family, and friends from British Columbia and South Africa.The energy of travel is palpable, especially with the influx of tourists enjoying their March Break.

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It is not uncommon these days to remark on how people of all ages—no longer children alone—are often glued to their smartphones, for one reason or another. The recent advent of Artificial Intelligence (AI) has added yet another layer to these devices, which were previously dominated by telephone calls, emails, text messages, photography, music, GPS, and documents (in roughly that order of preference). It’s astonishing that so much of what seems to drive current industry and attraction revolves around this one small piece of equipment.

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Traditionally, I have adhered to the strict social custom of avoiding open discussion of the politics of a nation of which I am not a citizen. This rigorous etiquette is particularly observed when I am in that country and among its inhabitants. However, recent developments in the days immediately following the inauguration of the new president of the United States have altered this perspective. Canadians are now unwittingly immersed in and entwined with American politics. The once-standard retort of “None of your business!” has been bluntly and shockingly set aside. Speaking as a Canadian, it is now very much our business. Americans have vicariously adopted the less-than-ambivalent insinuations of their president, which foment an invasion of Canadian sovereignty.

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Today – exactly 2 weeks prior to the monthly billing date of my initial subscription on February 25th last – I cancelled the Zips Car Wash card in anticipation of our departure from Hilton Head Island and return to Canada at the end of March. The cancellation signifies the commencement of our decline and withdrawal from Hilton Head Island for what I expect may be the last time. As you may surmise it is a transition not without its fervent import, a combination of the felicitous and the execrable, gratitude and remorse, refreshment and recollection. The shady corridors within Sea Pines plantation are at once exhilarating and repetitive, both welcoming and yet strangely all too familiar, the insinuating mystic depths competing with the lingering particles of commercial estrangement provoked especially by a new national American government reputedly dedicated to the expropriation of Canada as the 51st state, a battle apparently to be fought by instigating the economic ruin of Canada at the expense of the American people. It cannot be denied that Hilton Head Island in spite of its many favourable features is still not home.  It will forever be a vacation destination (as is the eponymous name of our much valued estate agency under the particular guidance of Mrs. Gail Edmonds and of late with the very capable assistance of Ms. Ashley Dyar).

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Narrative inspired by the elements:

In the quiet chambers of his study, an old man sat, his mind as sharp as the legal tomes that lined the walls around him. His hands, though aged, still carried the steady strength of a man accustomed to wielding both law and logic. Years had softened his voice, but the precision with which he spoke was no less commanding. He had spent a lifetime navigating the intricacies of the law, crafting arguments with the same care and deliberation a master craftsman might take in shaping a fine piece of furniture. Each case, a puzzle to solve, each contract, a story of power and consequence.

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Friday, November 10, 2017

About twenty-two years ago I travelled to Naples, Florida with a friend to interlope at his mother’s and step-father’s rental apartment on the Gulf coast for a week over the Christmas holiday. My recollection is that the apartment belonged to a Vice-president of Mobile Oil who planned to retire there ultimately but who in the meantime had arranged to rent it.  My friend’s mother explained to me that she and her husband routinely spent three months of the year over the winter in Florida; and that they always arranged their upcoming stay in the year prior to the visit while they were then currently in Florida. At the time I marveled at the planning which naturally exceeded anything I had ever undertaken for my comparatively shorter southern jaunts to the Caribbean or Mayan resorts. Now that I have graduated to the vernacular of a retired snowbird the planning routine is a familiar one.

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On Sunday, March 9, at 2 a.m. local time, the clock leapt forward by one hour, marking the shift to Daylight Saving Time (DST). This seasonal adjustment is designed to extend evening daylight in summer by setting clocks forward in the spring and back in the fall—hence the mnemonic: “spring forward and fall back.” While golfers may relish the extra light for late afternoon rounds, farmers, whose routines are dictated by their livestock rather than the clock, may view the change less favorably.

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Travel is a cultivated and varied appetite. For most, it remains a moderate indulgence, though in later life, free from professional and familial obligations, it often transforms into a more prolonged alternative to life at home.

Recently, however, our approach to travel has shifted. The primary catalyst for this change is the political climate in the United States, where we have spent the past decade exploring. Compounding this is an increasingly unfavorable global landscape, with rising safety concerns reflected in official government advisories. The widening divisions between religious and racial groups have further estranged nations from one another.

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The natural world into which all living creatures are born is, for the most part, self-sustaining. Birds and insects grow and survive without visible amendment, guided only by the forces of nature. The sun rises and sets; the seasons change; flowers bloom and wither; leaves come and go. Human beings, by contrast, distinguish themselves through deliberate and sometimes extraordinary modifications—not only to their own natural growth and evolution but also to the world around them. They alter agriculture and architecture, photography and cosmetics, music and language, even the alphabets they use. More remarkably, humans create entire fictions—narratives among and between themselves—that shape their perception of reality. This continuous process of revision and reinterpretation far exceeds the natural limitations of partnership, familial growth, and physical necessity.

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Late last evening, just as I was crawling into bed, I noticed an email notification from my newest acquaintance and neighbor, Carolina. She wrote:

“Hello Bill, if you’re triking around 11 tomorrow, stop by the old pickleball courts (I think they’re green). Four of us who haven’t played in a year or two are going to give it a try.”

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