Postcards from the Road

 

We’re off exploring our beautiful province. Hairpin turns, 

majestic views in remote territory where bear warnings abound, but we have not seen one yet. 

Stunning waterfalls, rivers, and lakes a-plenty. 

Flowers growing in abandoned villages. 

Will fill in more on our return. 

Friday Favourites from Home and Away

I rather dropped off the blogosphere for a couple of weeks. We were camping on the west coast of Vancouver Island, in Ucluelet (pronounced as it's written - the U (you) is the first syllable). Our hikes took us along very rugged shores with stunning views of sea, rocks, and sky. The weather, which can be quite wet, cooperated fully with lots of sunshine and no rain. 

There are some fantastical-looking natural sculptures in the forest. This tangle of tree trunk and roots looks to me like a prehistoric creature frozen in time. Enormous trees, bald eagles, much birdsong, a little kayaking, hiking, and relaxing with a view nicely filled the four days of our trip.

One morning we drove along the highway a short distance to enjoy a picnic lunch on a sandy beach. How surprising to see thick drifts of mist obscuring the waves and rocks. If one were out at sea, it would be dangerous. No wonder this stretch of water is called the Graveyard of the Pacific. 

We saw no boats, but during our walk along the beach, a group of cyclists materialized out of the mist, silently pedaling past us to disappear just as quickly in the other direction. Surreal is the word that came to mind.

We've been home now for a week, catching up with house and garden. There've been a number of appointments and social engagements keeping us busy, including a birthday party for a 6-year-old and a new teenager. Last night was the band/choir concert for our newly 13-year-old granddaughter. 

The pale pink peonies (I think they are Sarah Bernhardt) have delighted me all week. I believe these ruffled beauties are my favourites of them all, so feminine and elegant. 

Every few days I pick another bowlful of ripe strawberries, juicy and sweet. We slice them into our breakfast granola, or eat them plain. I've frozen a couple of bags for winter to use for sauces or smoothies. Soon the blueberries will ripen from green to dusty blue-purple. The bushes are loaded and a couple of American Robins have been visiting. To hopefully deter them, we've strung rope above the bushes and hung blank CDs on string to dance and dazzle in the sunshine. Those CDs have been sitting in a box for years, of no use to us as originally intended. It's quite festive looking from my kitchen window. We will see how effective they are. 

There's an invasive species that's appeared in the past five years - the European Wall Lizard. The story of its appearance is a cautionary tale - a man once had a small zoo on nearby. When he tired of the zoo, he let the animals loose. The lizard was one of them and it has slowly made inroads, moving from the site of its release on the peninsula to invade gardens throughout the south island. I'm certain they will move northwards, as well. I don't like the creatures at all, but they have one semi-redeeming feature in that they eat the slugs that used to carve holes into my strawberries. 

Roses are the stars of the garden now. Lichfield Angel is the newest and produces bloom after creamy bloom. I am a little startled by how large the bush is and am contemplating pruning it to not sprawl quite so much. There is always a bouquet or two or three of roses in the house these days, in varying shades of pink and white. 

I tried a new dish, Muhalabia, an Arabic milk pudding faintly flavoured with rose water. My Persian friend gave me a bottle of rose water and I'm looking for ways to use it. The pudding is similar to Panna Cotta from Italy, but thickened with cornstarch rather than gelatin. Not too sweet and delicious with fresh strawberries and a sprinkle of macadamia nuts (the recipe recommends pistachios). 

 Elderflowers adorn the bush these days. My little helper Cora held the blossoms while I snipped them to make Elderflower Cordial. On a warm summer day a tall glass of club soda with ice and this concentrate is perfect for sipping while on the patio. 

I'm slowly catching up with reading blogs, and hope to visit you there soon. 

One Last Day in May

I'm barely slipping under the clock with this last May post. In most of the world it's already June. Outside my window a line of cloud-streaked light fills the sky, creating a silhouette of the trees. There's a bit of wind seen as one branch of a near lilac tree waves back and forth.

Peonies are my delight in the garden just now. The various bushes bloom at different times, prolonging the season. These creamy white Duchesse de Nemours are nearly finished, but how beautiful they've been. 

The bees are mad for chive blossoms. I counted at least six varieties of bees hard at work one sunny evening. 

Foxgloves, roses, and Lady's Mantle meld together in a fine trio against the hedge. The foxgloves are taller than I can remember, towering far above my head. 

Here Gertrude Jekyll seems to be whispering something to the foxglove. I wonder what secrets flowers would tell. Only the very nicest, I'm certain. 

I mentioned that my parents were celebrating their 70th wedding anniversary in my previous post. Here they are in May 1955. When I show the photo, people often comment on how lovely Mom's dress is. I agree, but Mom tells me it wasn't the one she would have chosen. Her father and stepmother chose it for her. 

Several years ago Mom donated her dress to an organization that makes gowns for stillbirth babies. 

And here they are after 70 years. Still in love, still smiling. Marriage isn't always easy, but they've stuck together through thick and thin, committed to each other and to God. My siblings and I are so thankful to have them.

One last peony image for this post. We made a quick trip to the mainland to celebrate with Mom and Dad, taking them out for lunch, having a special cake, and a short photo session. Just eight of us - my parents, my siblings and I, and our spouses. 

Today I've puttered in the garden, including cutting this bouquet of peonies. There were just a few white buds left, so I included them along with the pink ones. 

May has been such a lovely month with plenty of sunshine and some much-needed rain, making it perfect for getting the vegetable garden in. Last night after arriving home I went out to see three pole bean seeds barely poking through the dirt. This morning they are unfurling their first seed leaves. So much fun to watch. 

"And then, one fairy night, 

May became June."

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Gardens in May

 

Spring is slowly giving way to summer, but not without intermittent regressions. This morning's view from my window is of soft grey clouds with a band of pale blue, then one of puffy clouds and mist trailing in the hills beyond. Rain fell during the night and the new deck surface my husband is working on is shiny wet.

I'm harvesting radishes and lettuce from the garden, also rhubarb and plenty of herbs - oregano, thyme, and chives. A few moments were spent in the sunshine yesterday watching a dozen fat bees of busy amongst the purple chive flowers. Blooms on the pea plants mean that we'll soon be eating peas. The youngest grandchildren were here and found a handful of ripe strawberries to nibble on. How I love this month when the garden bursts with life. 

Foxgloves self-seed and this group chose a wonderful spot, in the back of the flower bed against the fence. There's a feverfew plant visiting with them, and columbines adding to the party. All grew without my interference. Well done, self-seeders!

I took myself to Butchart Gardens early last week and walked under the laburnum arches that mark the entrance from the parking lot. A canopy of golden rain. 

Himalayan Blue Poppies (meconopsis baileyi) were at their peak, with their translucent petals. Butchart Gardens does not have plant labels other than in the rose garden, but gives visitors a plant guide for each season. There are many tourists in the gardens now, with buses filling the parking lot. I heard many questions with people wondering what this or that plant is, along with oohs and ahhs at the beautiful displays. 

The Sunken Garden is one of the showpieces, created when Jenny Butchart, had the vision to beautify the limestone rock quarry emptied by her husband's business in the early 1900s. The story is told of visitors stopping by the property to see the gardens, and being served tea by Mrs. Butchart until the crowds became so great that the family began charging people. The original house is now used as a tea room and restaurant. Butchart Gardens is still owned by the family, and has been designated a National Historic Site of Canada. 

Back in my own very modest garden the roses are beginning to bloom, starting with fragrant Gertrude Jekyll. Peonies, too, and with the rain last night, the white Duchesse de Nemours blossoms are nodding towards the ground. 

For Mother's Day last week, I gave the mothers of my grandchildren a watercolour sketch done from a couple of photos. It was a fun project. I have been inspired by Monique who paints lovely simple images. She also shares them on her Instagram page. 

This week we will be making a short trip to the mainland to celebrate my parents' 70th wedding anniversary. It's a simple celebration with just them and my siblings and spouses. I am so thankful for their love throughout the years. So, there are things to prepare this week and I had better get to it. 

Friday Favourites: A Week in May

 

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to 

think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read

and all the friends I want to see.

John Burroughs

Halfway through May. The days slip by, full of ordinary things. A friend took me on a tour around her new property. I used the Seek App on my phone to identify many unknown plants including the Leopard's Bane (doronicum) above. The bright yellow patch of flowers underplanted with bluebells is so pretty. 

My husband loves cycling. He rides for pleasure, but also to run errands. I find cycling enjoyable on flat ground. Hills and I do not get along at all. And to go anywhere from our house requires descending a short, steep hill, which means ascending on the way home. Yesterday friends invited us to go for a bike ride using their electric bikes. I was skeptical and dreading the outing. I soon got the hang of it, though, and found myself zooming UP hills. It was so much fun. Perhaps an electric bike is in my future, but there's more thinking to do first. 

On Tuesday Cora and I went to the park and around the pond. No baby ducks yet. We played a few rounds of hide and seek in the forest, and she posed on a tree trunk just made for sitting. I'm certain that she walked twice the distance I did with all her running ahead and then back.

We've enjoyed beautiful sunshine for many days. On a morning walk many things vied for my attention. Here are a few of them:

Himalayan Clematis

Birdsong in every tree

Swaths of Camas Lilies in the woods, dark blue with 

gold-tipped stamens

Creamy Pacific Dogwood blooms

Masses of horsetail in some new landscaping - a real nuisance,

but feathery green and soft just now

An elderly woman bundled in a heavy hooded jacket 

with her walker slowly moving along the street

A patch of Irises in half sun, half shade

A single weathered Adirondack chair sitting in a patch

of sunlight

Fawn Lilies all but disappeared now other than their

spotted leaves

Bellis Daisies against the taller stems of Camas Lilies

The wide smile of a young boy biking to school

Infinite shades of green leaves

The blue skies and warm sunshine have disappeared in the past two days, replaced by a sharp wind off the Pacific, and drizzle today. We need the rain, so I won't complain. Sweater weather again. 

I've thought about these Poet's Narcissus that I saw on our recent boating trip, wondering who planted them there in a grassy meadow overlooking the sea. Perhaps a woman longed to create spots of beauty in her life isolated from society. Her house is abandoned and falling apart, but still her flowers bloom, testament to her existence. Of the dock where she once arrived only two cement pilings remain.

My extravagance is my garden - it's the first

thing I look at every morning when I

wake up. It gives me so much pleasure.

Ina Garten

One peony plant has bloomed and the others have many buds on them. I'm eager to see them open, along with the roses. I made a sad observation to Tim the other day, admitting to myself that I don't have room for any more permanent plants in my garden. Instead, I'll content myself arranging pots of annuals and enjoy the shrubs and perennials as they come. 

Wishing you a delightful weekend.

Friday Favourites: Pretty Little Things

 

The world's favourite season is spring.

All things seem possible in May.

Edwin Way Teale (American naturalist and writer)

May is fully upon us and life springs up in every corner. I feel invigorated by the increasing light and warmth. Just a few weeks ago, a single bloom in the garden was noteworthy; now a plethora of colour and form greets me upon each garden visit, all appreciated. Sweetly scented wisteria perfumes the air and I catch bits of fragrance from across the garden. Lilac flowers are fading quickly and have been outstanding this year, in quantity, colour, and scent.

I planted two pots of tulips last fall, neatly covering them with netting to keep out the squirrels and raccoons. The bulbs were purchased as a set, dark and light bulbs - Joyful Dreams. They are beautiful, but differ greatly in height, not quite the look I was going for. Nature often surprises. 

Sea glass collected on recent beach walks. I'm always pleased to add to my collection. I am particularly fond of the pale blue and turquoise pieces, as well as the clouded white ones. Little bits of loveliness made beautiful by the process of time, waves, and sand. There's a lesson there, reminding me that beauty is not a matter of youth and fashion, but of strength of character and of a way of looking at the world with hope and optimism.

 

Rhubarb is flourishing in the garden and that means Rhubarb Cake. Rather than bake it in a rectangular pan, I made cupcakes. Most of them go into the freezer for my husband to pull out when he wants one. I eat one the first day, slightly warm, and then I'm not tempted by the rest. 

New loafers provide a spring in my step. Easy to slip into and comfortable to wear throughout the day for walks or errands. Soft leather and padded soles mean a lot these days. 

It's always exciting to anticipate a parcel in the mail. Particularly when one doesn't know exactly what's arriving. I ordered a subscription from The Bundle Bee Bindery. Unwrapping the pretty hand-bound notebook, an artist's print, and other bits and pieces was so much fun. The journal on the left was purchased at a local store purely because of the cover with its dainty flowers. 

Last but not least, I cut the first bouquet of roses yesterday. This unknown variety never lasts long in the house, but is faintly fragrant and always the first to bloom. 

This post was composed over a few days, in between gardening and laundry, a few appointments, and making pizza for dinner. Friday nights seem to call for pizza or tacos or another simple meal - a leftover habit from when we had children at home. Although days are much the same now, I still enjoy doing things that define the weeks and days. 

Wishing you a weekend filled with pretty little things around you. 

Friday Favourite: A Short Boating Trip

 

The weather forecast said sunny. Winds light. We packed our gear and enough food for three days and chugged off to Cabbage and Tumbo Islands. Solitude, our boat, hasn't been used much in the past few years - there was the driving trip to the Arctic Ocean one summer followed by a trip across Canada the next, and last year we went to Europe. This year we are staying closer to home and making an effort to use the boat. 

Doesn't the scene above look tropical? The water is very cold; less than 10 degrees Celsius, so no swimming for us. 

There is a lovely hiking trail on Tumbo Island, through the forest, alongside a marshy wetland, and by an old farm where buildings and rusting equipment lie drowsing in the sun. From the trail I took a photo of our boat, 25 feet, and just enough room for the two of us.

Two pairs of bald eagles provided entertainment. They swooped overhead, sometimes with small prey in their claws. Here the larger female is perched high while the male is down in the nest. We couldn't tell if there were young there or not. A few years ago we did see eaglets in this same nest. 

Oystercatchers in the evening light allowed our kayaks to approach quite close. 

Gulls of several varieties rose up in the air, swirling above us in our kayaks, filling the air with harsh screeching. I was thinking about gulls' penchant for leaving behind droppings everywhere and hoping my head wasn't a target. Luckily, we both escaped the indignity. 

Back on Solitude we watched the colours of sunset intensify and then fade into darkness before settling down to sleep on calm seas.

Home now. Unpacking and a few errands this afternoon. The wind has picked up and a bit of rain fell. I hope to spend time in the garden over the weekend. Now that May is here, everything grows much faster, including the weeds. 

Friday Favourites

 

The perfume of the lilacs came in little 

puffs on the crystal air.

L. M. Montgomery (Magic for Marigold)

This evening the scent of lilacs wafts from the dining room table. We have three lilac bushes and sadly, one is coming out tomorrow to make room for the patio expansion. So I am cutting blooms with abandon. Pounding the woody stems with a hammer seems to make them last longer in vases. 

Days filled with sunshine and a few puffy clouds make Spring delightful. I love this weather, but we do need some rain as the ground is already quite dry.

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts

I want to think, all the walks I want to take,

all the books I want to read,

and all the friends I want to see.

John Burroughs

Clouds of blue forget-me-nots fill the ground beneath the rose bushes that have transformed from bare sticks to full leaf. A few tiny buds appear - a promise for the weeks to come. Red tulips are almost over, but there are more in other spots. 

I'm spending lots of time in the garden, moving some plants, weeding, and looking at everything with a more critical eye than usual as I try to bring to life my vision for this space. 

Adults follow paths. Children explore. Adults are content

to walk the same way hundreds of times, or thousands; 

perhaps it never occurs to adults to step off the paths,

to creep beneath rhododendrons, to find

the spaces between fences.

Neil Gaiman

Our one rhododendron is filled with showy blooms holding gold-tipped stamens. They are very pretty when looked at individually, but I find the mass of them a wee bit overpowering. I didn't find any children under the rhododendron, but I did find a large yellow tulip, one that I never planted. Did a squirrel bring it from a neighbour's garden hoping to nibble on it in the winter and then forgot all about it?

Go out, go out I beg of you

and taste the beauty of the wild.

Behold the miracle of the earth

with all the wonder of a child.

Edna Jaques

I've enjoyed some lovely books recently. Sometimes it seems like my book choices are rather mundane, enjoyable but not memorable, and then I choose others whose characters and story lines I turn over and over in my mind. 

The Enchanted April

A comforting re-read. Who wouldn't love to escape to Italy for a 

month in the sun and find one's self transformed?

The Comfort of Crows

Margaret Renkl

Essays on ageing, gardening, the wild natural world. Renkl writes
"The world will always be beautiful to those who look for beauty. Throats will always catch when the fleeing clouds part fleetingly and the golden moon flashes into existence and then winks out again."

A Killer in King's Cove

Iona Wishaw

A new-to-me writer with a number of books I'm looking forward to reading featuring Lane Winslow, a young British woman who moves to rural Canada shortly after WWII and becomes embroiled in solving murders. 

Go out, go out I beg of you

and taste the beauty of the wild.

Behold the miracle of the earth

with all the wonder of a child.

Edna Jaques

Apple blossoms are the prettiest things. I look down on them every morning from my bedroom window. Last year we had very few apples and I'm hoping this year will produce more of them. 

These days are full of many things, but not overly busy. Every day I go out to inspect my garden, to see what's coming into bloom and what's finished. Lettuce, spinach, and peas are growing nicely in the potager. Tomato plants are thriving in the greenhouse. It's simply a wonderful time of year. 

Sending wishes for a beautiful weekend.