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So, it's just over 10 days since our family returned from our yearly week on Manitulan Island,

which is Spirit Island in the Anishinaabe language.

My wife's people have been renting the same cottage there on the same week before Labor Day for decades.

It's a shady wooden cabin with a concrete floor and screened windows and back porch that opens onto a

200-yard winding forest path through to sand dunes and a beach on the crystal waters of Lake Huron.

So, it's an 8-hour trip from Toronto which is broken up by an hour and 45 minutes on an Ontario

fairies boat called the Chi Chi Man which translates to Big Canoe.

And about 10 minutes after the launch, the mobile signal starts to fade

along with my excuse for needing my phone on because I didn't really need Google Maps on the way

up, not even to estimate the arrival time. It's not like tracking the minutes change the outcome.

This signal loss moment is something I wait for all year.

I know the signal will come back on the island itself because over the past few years,

they've installed towers there too. So, it's not that I'm cut off from the new cycle called Turkey.

It's more like there's enough lake and wind and bright sky opening up onto September

to remind me that time is both more vast and more immediate than I typically hold in my hand.

So, for obvious reasons, I hate to use words like cleansing or detox these days, but that's what

...