I’ve been busy the past week. Besides dealing with the death of my mother-in-law, and the administration of her estate, I’ve been taking some time to enjoy the awesome weather we have been having recently.

Below, you will find some pictures of my adventures!

June 26, I headed down to Water Street and the Harbour to see the two cruise ships visiting St. John’s that day. The Volendam was anchored on the east side — you can spot it in the distance in the first photo — while the Princess Silhouette sat farther in, towering over the waterfront. The whole downtown core was absolutely packed with people, the kind of lively bustle that only cruise‑ship days bring to the city. It was lovely to see! The weather was awesome!

June 28 found my husband and me wandering back to Long Pond, settling into one of our favourite quiet spots to relax and cast a line. I love that place — it feels like you’ve stepped straight into the middle of the forest, wrapped in trees and stillness, yet you’re somehow still within the city limits. Long Pond has that rare kind of calm where the air feels softer, the water moves slow, and the world gives you permission to breathe a little deeper.

June 29 had a very different rhythm — the kind of day where you settle in for a long bus ride and let the city roll past the windows. I headed all the way out to the East End, up Torbay Road, with one mission in mind: finding black gnat fishing flies at Canadian Tire. They didn’t have a single one in stock, of course — the exact thing you go hunting for is always the thing missing from the shelf.

Still, I made the most of being out that way. I wandered up the road and took a quiet walk to the Service Canada Centre, tucked inside one of the office buildings nearby. It wasn’t a dramatic day, but it had that familiar St. John’s feeling —  while out doing errands.

June 30 was one of those bright, easy Newfoundland days that feel like a gift. My son and daughter‑in‑law picked me up, and we headed out toward Ferryland, taking our time and stopping wherever the coastline called to us. We wandered along the beaches, pockets slowly filling with shells, smooth beach rocks, and bits of sea glass that caught the light just right.

The views were spectacular — that wide, open stretch of ocean, the cliffs, the soft roll of waves — the kind of scenery that settles your mind without asking permission. It was simple, peaceful, and exactly the kind of day that stays with you.

These past few days out in nature have been exactly the kind of gentle reset my mind and body needed. After moving through busy streets, quiet ponds, long bus rides, and wide‑open coastlines, I could feel something in me settling — like the landscape itself was reminding me to slow down, breathe deeper, and come back into the present moment.

Being outside wasn’t just a break from routine; it was a return to myself. The fresh air, the movement, the colours, the stillness — all of it worked together to soften the edges and clear the mental clutter I’ve had recently.

Nature has a way of offering perspective without saying a word, and these days were a perfect reminder of that.