A spur-of-the-moment decision. I boil water for tea, wrap up cheese and sausage, cut an apple into wedges, grab the dark chocolate and put my hiking boots by the door.
And we're off to East Sooke Park, the best place for hiking, in our opinion. Water, forest, sky, mountains. As we begin, skies look dark and ominous, but Tim's pack contains rain gear and hot tea.
We usually take the coast trail to Beechy Head, and then a shorter inland trail back to the parking lot. This time, we do it in reverse. What a difference! It hardly looks like the same trail. Do you ever do things the opposite way and find a fresh perspective?
Beechy Head is one of the points from where the boundary of between the USA and Canada is marked. We perch on a rock ledge high above the water, hoping the rain will hold off. It does. A bit of sunshine peeks through and the wind dies down as we drink our tea. Below us, nearer the water, gulls sail by; singles, doubles and groups. Where are they going? Is there a gull party somewhere? We were not invited.
In the distance, monotones prevail, a hundred shades of blue and grey. A mostly empty container ship glides down the strait, a thin, crisply delineated shape in the blurred landscape.
The softened focus of the larger views sharpens as I zero in on what's nearby. Puffs of the lichen cladonia ciliata (I think) resemble soft, pale green sheep fleece. We follow the trail along the coast. Up and down we clamber, stopping frequently to admire the view.
Arbutus berries, yellow, red, and gold, dangle from a spindly branch.
Flocks of squawking gulls cluster around a bed of sea kelp as we near the end of our 3-hour hike.
We drive home, tired but restored in body and mind. Here, in unspoiled creation, I sense God's presence. Beauty soothes and inspires.
Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life.