A Bit of Spontaneity Does the Soul Good

 

Late Sunday morning the sunshine streamed into the house, warming the living room, casting sharp shadows. It was just too beautiful to stay indoors. We packed up a quick lunch - crackers, cheese, pickles, cucumbers and red pepper strips, plus sliced apples and chocolate. We made a thermos of hot tea and off we went to French Beach, along the Strait of Juan de Fuca. 

The sunshine was mostly obscured by light fog and the wind off the water made us very glad for scarves and jackets and gloves. 

Our thermos of tea was most welcome, too. The thermos is old - Tim bought it in high school, but it's sturdy and works well, and accompanies us on most outings.

Along with a first aid kit, two small rectangles cut from an old blue camping sleeping mat are permanent residents in Tim's backpack. We placed them on one of the many driftwood logs tossed up onto the shore and sat ourselves down, protected from the damp cold. Comfort!

Our lunchtime entertainment was the spectacle of two gulls perched on a log in the heaving water. I almost got seasick watching them. Up and down they went. Sometimes the log disappeared entirely and sometimes the birds themselves were hidden by waves. Up and down, up and down. They drifted closer and closer to shore and finally alighted from the log just before it came ashore onto the rocky beach. 

The woods are wet after all the rain we've had, with many muddy sections on the trail. My eye was caught by the tiny crystal beads clinging to the delicate ferns. 

The beach was strewn with logs of all sizes, tangles of kelp and seaweed. This clutch of small rocks nestled in a driftwood log was placed there by the waves, perhaps for safekeeping.

On our way home we stopped at a place new to us - Sheringham Point Lighthouse. It's been deemed surplus by the government and was destined for demolition until a group of concerned citizens took it on as a preservation project. There is a small park and a short looping trail, as well as a trail down to the lighthouse. A wild and beautiful spot. The lighthouse keeper's house was demolished, but a volunteer told us that they have the original plans and hope to rebuild a replica one day. 

We arrived home not too long before dark, tired and oh, so happy for our hours in the outdoors. 

Camping in a Forest by the Sea

Summer is all too short in Canada, and most Canadians try to make the most of it. This past weekend, we, along with our three children and their children packed up tents (one tent trailer), coolers filled with delicious food, folding chairs, and all the paraphernalia that goes along with camping and drove out to French Beach Provincial Campground, about an hour away. 

The eleven of us (8 adults and 3 children) had two sites and we set up our homes away from home, in the forest, before trekking down to the beach. The waves break upon the shore in constant rhythm, rushing forward to tumble stones upon the sand before falling back to build again. Mesmerizing. 

I snapped mostly beach treasures, with a few forest finds from our hike through trails overgrown with salal trails where it seems few others ventured.

We walked or sat on the beach, with piles of smooth stones that begged to be held and caressed, or built up into stone towers. A few made their way into pockets and carried home where they will be tossed into a pretty dish as a memento of a lovely time together. 

The beach is endlessly entertaining for the children. They climbed huge, uprooted logs that had been weathered by the sea before being tossed up onto shore. They imagined shelters, ships, and animals. 

It was much cooler there than in town and we could have done with a few more jackets. Fortunately, we all had enough blankets and bedding so we were warm at night. There were no mosquitoes or bugs to bother us, either. 

We spent two nights camping and enjoyed lots of laughter, good food, and some serious chats together. 

One very unexpected thing happened - I woke up very early on Saturday morning in agony. I'm fairly stoic, but this pain on my right side and back was worse than anything I can remember. After walking around the campsite for about 45 minutes (sitting or lying down was impossible), I finally woke Tim and asked him to drive me to the hospital, an hour away. It was a dreadful drive. Fortunately, the emergency department wasn't busy and I had a CT scan almost immediately - a kidney stone. It passed about 3 hours after the pain began, and I felt absolutely fine, so we went back to the campsite. 

Interestingly, the physician who attended me said that there were 3 other women in the ER at the same time, all of us with kidney stones on the right side. Weird! Have you ever had a kidney stone? 

Last night Tim and I went down to the beach to watch the sun set. Such loveliness. 

We came back into town around noon. The temperature difference is remarkable and a cool shower and loose clothing were most welcome. 

Do you like camping? What was your last camping trip like? 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life. 

Camping in the Rain

How many of you grew up going on camping trips for vacations? I did. Tim and I still enjoy camping and like to plan a yearly camping trip with our children. This past weekend we packed up tents, air mattresses, coolers, chairs, Coleman stoves and more. Much more. French Beach, a provincial park about 80 minutes from home, was our destination. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate and we dodged drizzle and showers most of the weekend. I love sleeping snuggled into my bed while rain drips on the tent roof. Such a cozy sound.    

How to entertain a 2-year-old and a 3-year-old? They didn't seem to mind the rain at all. One mother sent the girls on a little scavenger hunt, asking them to find forest treasures, one at a time: a pinecone, a dry leaf, some moss. All the treasures were placed into empty egg cartons.

And when all else fails a little theatre was set up. The Little Misses had matching camp chairs, one red, one green, each printed with crabs and fishes, and purchased without consulting each other.
 

There was plenty of poking the fire, drinking hot chocolate, and rigging up tarps. Snacks and the sharing of meal preparation. Cuddling Mister F. A respite from everyday life. No technology. One morning I awoke early and walked the length of the beach, accompanied only by crows. Mist rose from the waves.

Home again, now, to a hot shower and piles of laundry. It's good to get away and it's good to return home.

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary of the Little Red House.  

Summer's Siren Call

Summer's siren song called again this afternoon, prompting another excursion, this time to French Beach. Waves rushed upon the shore, splashing upwards, then receding in long sighs. 
 

A small fishing boat pulled up crab traps (we think) as the sun lowered. A long line of distant fog obscured the far shore, leaving the mountains of the Olympic Peninsula groundless, floating on the water.
 

September's here and I wonder how many more such afternoons we will have before dull skies and rain take over. This month bridges summer and fall with warm sunlight and cooling breezes. The garden still blooms, but things are beginning to look tired. Soon it will be time to draw indoors and pull the coziness of autumn around. Change is in the wind. Do you feel it?