And then somebody stole it.
Within fifteen minutes, someone found my favourite bag (of no monetary value) and claimed it for their own. Or maybe they took the five-dollar bill and handful of toonies and then threw the awesome bag away. I don’t know.
I had a coupon for a mtb shuttle ride in there, and one for a free beer at local brewery which I won as part of my race participant package. My favourite sunglasses were in there, too. And the best foldable shopping bags that ball up into tiny pouches and are super portable.
Damn.
They could have returned it to the store where I misplaced it. Or to the local RCMP.
But they didn’t. What was mine is now theirs.
I feel dumb for leaving it behind the way I did. That’s 100% on me and I’m only a victim of my own stupidity.
But shouldn’t the theft make me angry? Or feel violated? Threatened? It doesn’t.
When I realized it was gone, I just felt a little more exhausted than usual.
I hope they needed it all more than I did.
In other news (geez, I’m terrible at segues) I finally sorted out my photos away from Google storage, and I added a new album that I quite like: Overprocessed photos from the train.
Life is still good.
W.
Photo: Somewhere north of the Fraser. Circa 2025.
