Is summer really going to end?

Rhonda and I were discussing recently how once the kids were gone, we were going to start taking our holidays in the fall when the weather is a bit more moderate, there are fewer people at campgrounds, and it's just easier to get time off. 

I've always hated how so many people just give up on the outdoors as soon as Labour Day is behind us. Sure, for the kids, summer necessarily ends when they go back to school. But for me, little has changed beyond the month I write at the top of my journal every morning. 

This past weekend really reinforced that for me. I went to my first Doylefest, a little folk festival at Eagle Creek Regional Park near Asquith. In true folk-festival form, it was a camping-only festival with a great group of musicians and music lovers. I'm not exactly the biggest folk-nerd, but these were my people, and it was a really great weekend outside! 

Wasn't it cold at night? You bet your damn bippy it was. But when has that ever been a hindrance for me? I had a good tent, lots of blankets and clothes, and I was ready and happy to be out there enjoying myself. If I'd attended with a few other people, I would have had a big fire and brought the camper along just to further my comforts. As I sat at the main stage on Sunday morning, basking in the sun, buzzing from my own recent performance and sipping my delicious coffee, it occurred to me that this weekend could go on forever. Maybe I wouldn't go home. 

But then again, so much of this is about letting seasons affect our behaviour. Obviously, when it rains, you need an umbrella, and when it's cold, you need a jacket, but why do we decide to hibernate the second it gets less than ideal? I've always wished that I had taken up snowmobiling or another outdoor winter sport. Something to get me out in the sun so I can stave off the seasonal affective disorder a bit. 

I did get some snowshoes for Christmas a few years ago, but I've only really had a couple of opportunities to use them. And with my endlessly encroaching gout, I don't know how many more opportunities I'll get to use them. But I heard that the Farmer's Almanac is predicting lots of snow this year, so who knows? Maybe this is the year. 

I don't exactly know what I've got planned for the next few weeks, but I'm going to find things. Football games, maybe some walking in the parks, and I'll hopefully find myself a way to enjoy as much of 2025 as I have left. 

Let's go for a swim

I had a weird liminal space dream about a week ago. I was in a vast area underground of stacked halls with tall columns, all in pale white marble or limestone. It was located underneath a city, and I remember wondering which level I'd go through that would pop up to the surface - though it never came. At one point, I really wanted my flashlight, and somehow I knew - I'd have to wake up to go get it. 

So with that unsettled, offness that can follow a nocturnal liminal adventure, it was quite stunning to stumble across YouTuber, TangoTek, playing a game called "Pools." So I stopped for a bit and watched what he was playing. Another escape into the liminal.

I started with the demo, which features Level 1, a complex of interconnected, waist-deep pools. The facility is dotted with the occasional waterslide, bottomless pit diving boards, deck chair, rubber ducky and a couple of very unsettling environmental occurrences. While occasionally unsettling, I would actually very much like to be able to wander through a place like this myself. Especially if the water was very warm, it would be sort of a sauna wander. Some areas in Level 1 are very dark and secluded. Places like grottos and tunnels are the kind of place you could cop a feel - or lose an arm, 

For all of its minimalist simplicity, the game is stunning both in the visual and audio spaces. It's actually why I tried the demo first, I wasn't sure if my Costco laptop was gonna handle it. It does, but it sags a bit from the heat. 

This one is better with headphones for sure, each room sounds and echoes differently. But it's in the audio space that the simplicity of going for a stroll gets amped up into the horror genre. Or at least high anxiety. You can hear machinery moaning, the building creaking and occasionally footsteps and voices where there shouldn't be. My biggest complaint about the whole game is that your footsteps sound like you're wearing army boots. I feel like it should sound barefoot. You encounter statues throughout the playthrough and they're all naked. 

To be sure, it reflects tense feelings visually as well. The facility switches from brightly lit and maybe sharing a wall with the outside to dark, with only pool lights to guide your way forward. 

The game also seems to read your mind at times. In one of the middle levels, I got to thinking how weird it was that there weren't any doors. And shortly thereafter, doors begin to appear. And just as you're thinking that the tile everywhere is so repetitive that you can't tell which way is up and which way is down, the game takes a turn into movement that can only happen in a dream. 

And this is where this game really sticks to the feelings of the dream I mentioned at the start. It's an enormous place, like the underground labyrinth my dream took place in. It's lonely, and the only instinct that serves you is curiosity and exploration. As a regular player of games like Zelda, I was always looking for clues or a puzzle to solve, but it was never there. Just as the Steam description promises, there are no enemies, no antagonist, no story and no jump scares. It gets tense, but there's never anything to kill you. 

The game does have a death mechanic, but instead of starting you over at the start of the level, it just rewinds your progress about 30 seconds or so to the point before you died. For the most part, you die by falling or drowning - but you are still asked to take a few leaps of faith in the game to progress. 

Overall, the game captures that backrooms/liminal space well. There are parts that are reminiscent of Silent Hill, especially in the odd constructions that don't make sense. And there are parts towards the end of the game that elicit the imagery at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey, when Dave has gone through the technicolour wormhole and is walking around in his spacesuit before becoming an old man. 

Pools is a good deal for the $13 or so you pay for the game. If you have someone in your house who might play through it as well, it's a steal. If you're looking for a few hours of distraction with a game that isn't really a game at all, I encourage you to check it out!