Of Earth and Sky

 

Usually, 10 pm sees us heading off to bed. With the predicted solar storm in the news, we decided to have a little adventure and hopefully see the aurora borealis (Northern Lights). Island View Beach is about 15 minutes away from our home and we thought that the most accessible dark place. 

We had no idea of the number of people that had the same thought. A steady stream of cars aimed in the same direction. Parking spots were sparse, but we managed to find one. All along the beach people waited. At first we saw what looked like gauzy clouds shifting slightly in the night sky. Then pinks and greens appeared. 

Looking directly above us, the curtains of light emanated from a central spot in the sky. It was an awe-inspiring sight, making me think of the verse, "The heavens declare the glory of God." 

What made the event extra special was the singular focus of the people all around us. It wasn't crowded at all, but as the colours intensified, oohs and aahs rose in unison along the shore. We were all caught up together witnessing this beautiful phenomena. The joy felt by others contributed to deepening my own delight. If only we spent more time together as humans finding our common ground. 

Did you see the Northern (or Southern) Lights? A friend from Australia sent a photo of what she was seeing. Such an event!

Sunday afternoon saw us in a very different setting. Friends had purchased a new motorhome and were trying it out at a local campground. They invited to stop by and we all went for a walk. One single rail line runs up Vancouver Island, but it has not been used for a number of years. I rode the train just once and found it very rickety. Going over a curving high trestle bridge was nerve-wracking as the train slowed to a crawl to maintain stability. These days the rail line is good for walking on an afternoon filled with dappled light. 

Scotch Broom (cytisus scoparius) blooms just now, bright yellow against the green forest. The story goes that the plant was introduced to Vancouver Island by homesick Scots. Gardens were "sweetly reminiscent of home" according to Margaret Ormsby, a Canadian historian. Broom flourishes in disturbed ground such as the cleared land along the rail line. Now considered an invasive species, the plant crowds out native species and is taking root in more and more places. There are those who love the plant and those who despise it. The roadsides are pretty when the flowers bloom, but the plant itself is wiry and, to my mind, not particularly attractive. 

Leaving the rail line we followed a trail and descended 199 steps (I didn't count them, there was a sign) to a small river. Here a waterfall splashes down into a pool lined with fern-covered rocks, and ringed with tall cedar and hemlock trees. The water is clear green and very cold. Two people were swimming and someone joked that they must be Finns. On a hot summer day the pool would be a cooling spot. However, there are those steps one must climb to get back to the trail. 

I'm working hard to get my garden in these days. I planted out the tomatoes started under grow lights. Radishes and carrots are sprouting along with onions, lettuce, and spinach. A week of warm sunshine has heated the soil and everything is flourishing. 

Wishing you moments of delight and beauty.