Monday Musings: A Walk to Tod Inlet

 

I went on a lot of extra walks last week.  On Wednesday I got to carry little Cora in a wrap on my front while walking with her older sister Iris and my youngest daughter. Walking with a 20-month-old is a lesson in curiosity. Rocks, plants, and mud puddles are all fascinating and require serious study before moving on. Especially mud puddles! 

On Thursday afternoon I walked with my eldest daughter and her daughter. Lots of talk about books and reading ensued. 

On Friday I walked with a friend on the loop around the airport - 10 km. Lots of talk about life, make-up, retirement, travel, and more. 

On Thursday morning I started out on a walk with a friend, but she was called away shortly after we started, so I carried on alone. The path to Tod Inlet is an easy one and follows a creek that feeds into the inlet. At this time of year it's full of water rushing noisily downwards over boulders and fallen logs in a  hurry to get to the ocean. 

The forest is a million shades of green with moss of all kinds covering trees, rocks, and dirt with softness. 

Here Copper Wire Moss (pohlia nutans) grows like patchy hair on a bald rock. 

I was completely alone at the Inlet and utter peace enveloped me. I watched a gull duck and splash through its morning ablutions. Two white sailboats turned slowly on their anchorages. A black crow cawed overhead and two pairs of Common Mergansers drifted aimlessly about the inlet. 

This inlet, now so quiet, was once the site of immense industry as Portland Cement was manufactured on what are now the grounds of nearby Butchart Gardens. Docks and loading facilities here at the inlet were the means of transporting the cement to market. All that's left are a few crumbling building foundations, and these cement pilings.

I love the lines of these pilings and the way they have weathered over the years. I take photos of them almost every time I come to the Inlet. They are an intersection of nature and human industry, and a reminder of how quickly nature reasserts itself when left alone. 

On shore many of these old pilings, never used, rest in long rows, becoming more and more covered by moss each season. Children clamber over them and walk along their length. This tree began as a small shoot between two of the pilings and as it grew more insistent with age, began shifting the angle of the pilings. In the battle between static and dynamic, dynamic wins every time. 

Fluffy seed pods will soon be replaced by tiny bright green leaves as the seasons cycle again. The tides ebb and flood, winter ends and spring appears. Walking in the natural world is life-affirming and restorative. As the world heaves in turmoil, creation steadies me. Soon it will be time to plant seeds and garden, then water and weed and harvest, and so we come round again, in the grace of God. 

For this week, there are more walks planned, but also other things - baking and sewing. Reading, too, and I will soon share the books that have kept me company recently. Have a wonderful week. Stay warm and cozy as I see there are many places with frigid temperatures just now. May you see the beauty of each day.