(Recycled from the House of Love)

Greetings from Desolation Sound.

Mmmm … nothing quite prepared me for the beauty of this place. I’m in British Columbia, On Cortes Island which is a tiny speck between Vancouver Island and mainland Canada.

The place we’re staying at (Casey’s parents’ summer house) is a little shack on a cliff overlooking a large tidal lagoon. The whole picture is framed with forests and oceans – the scenery is nothing short of breathtaking.

Our bed is out in the open, on the edge of the cliff, under the stars. It’s been deliciously warm every night … we watch the moon rise overhead as we fall asleep, and we wake to the sound of birdsong.

This is truly a magical place.

We’ve been spending our days swimming, cycling, picking blackberries, looking at the view and talking … it’s idyllic here, perhaps a little quiet for a city boy like me, but a delicious change from the hustle and bustle of San Francisco.

There’s wild things here … otters, eagles, mink, deer … not much wild life, you understand, but lots of wildlife. Also at least one multi-billionaire (Bill Gates, of course … are there other multi-billionaires?) and a cast of local characters. Not two queer boys to rub together anywhere on the island, alas, so the only cruising available requires a boat.

I’ve been taking the opportunity of the peace and quiet to think a little, to go over a few of the questions that hang over my head these days … my life appears to be on the verge of a fairly radical transformation – I’m still unsure exactly where I’m headed, but big things are afoot in my mind, and that’s gotta be a good thing.

A few more days here, then we’re off to Vancouver again, briefly, then to Seattle and San Francisco, where we’ll stay only one night. Then we’re off to Boulder, Colorado, for a wedding and other festivities. This is Casey’s home turf, so I’m looking forward to seeing his origins, meeting lots of old friends of his and enjoying the scenery. Plus there are, apparently, at least two other queer boys there, who could conceivably be rubbed together.

Not that I do that kind of thing, of course.