Summer Along the Coast

I am so pleased to announce that summer has finally arrived in our corner. Temperatures this week will be between 21 and 25 degrees Celsius (70-77 F), with sunshine everyday. The good weather began over the weekend, while we were out for a short jaunt on Solitude. 

As we slip away from shore we leave behind the cares of land and focus on the moments. We're in our own world, an enormous expanse of sea, our small boat bobbing on the waves, with rocks and forest still visible. 

We normally prefer anchoring out in a small inlet or cove away from civilization, but for this trip we visited Ladysmith, a small town on Vancouver Island, and stayed in the marina there. It was very quiet.

One of the delights of boating is that there is nothing to call one's attention away from the main business at hand - relaxing and observing. On both evenings, as the light softened, a heron picked its way along the logs for a little preening and fishing. Doesn't he have amazing balance?

Solitude is a slow boat - we go about 7 knots - leaving plenty of time for conversation and silence, for wandering through my mazy mind. I noticed a large crevice in the rocks and I fancy it looks like a silhouette of a bird, beak pointing right, carved there on the hill. Do you see it? 

Lately, people have been recommending podcasts to me. I signed up for a couple, but can't bring myself to listen to them. I'm sure they are most interesting, but I'm quite content with the interior monologue that goes on inside my head. Do you listen to podcasts? With earbuds or headphones or broadcast from a computer? I also hate things in my ears. 

The heron in the photo above looks not at all concerned about the slug-like seals nearby. 

The coast of Vancouver Island is very much a working one. Pulp mills along this coast have ramped up their production of  medical grade soft red cedar pulp for use in masks and other personal protective equipment during the pandemic.

I always enjoy watching the tugboats at work. They are so mobile and can turn on a dime. Not visible in this photo is the worker who stepped off the tug and made his way along the log boom, looking as if he was walking on the sidewalk on land. 

For dinner one night we walked up the hill into town and ate at the Fox and Hounds, touted as the place to go for British pub fare. Outside, a red telephone box clearly indicates the British vibe. Inside, dark wood floors, Tudor-style beams, a long wooden bar, and lots of British knickknacks lining shelves and windowsills contributed to the traditional pub feel. The food was great - I had a seafood pot pie that was scrumptious, and Tim enjoyed a burger with fat chips, as hot as can be. Fewer tables and other procedures let us know that care was taken regarding the pandemic. 

Next to the marina was a sawmill with log booms where seagulls hung out, mostly keeping social distance. 

Home again now. Tim's off to work and the laundry is churning away. As for me, a little gardening, some cooking, and some sewing today. There will be time for reading, too. A perfect summer day! I wish the same for you!