Friday Favourites: Five Scenes from Sea and Forest

 

After eleven nights on the water I was glad to arrive home and sleep in my comfortable and spacious bedroom. The trip was wonderful; relaxing and interesting. We boated and hiked, read a lot, met some fascinating people, ate well, and thoroughly enjoyed seeing more of this part of this world. There are thousands of islands and islets between our home island, Vancouver Island (distinct from the city of Vancouver on the mainland), and the rest of our province of British Columbia, Canada. It's a popular place for boaters, but with the border still closed between Canada and the USA only Canadian boats were seen this year. 

There were plenty of scenes like the one above, mountains and ever-changing skies, forested islets and islands, and water that varied from choppy to rolling to smooth. Layers and layers of texture and colour. 

During the last century, this region was populated by fishermen, loggers, trappers, guides, and people just wanting to get away from civilization. Many of the small towns and settlements have disappeared, and the coastal population is much less than in the past. Remnants of settlement linger on abandoned docks like the one above, where a wild rose plant has somehow found enough soil and nutrients to grow and bloom. 

With the availability of satellite internet connections, and the ability to work remotely, more people are moving back to these remote areas. Many are accessible only by water - boat or seaplane. 

From our boat on the first day of our trip we spied the osprey above checking things out. I guess we must have passed inspection for he flew off, looking for fish elsewhere, I assume. 

We watched the heron and the merganser approaching each other from opposite directions and wondered what interaction they might have. Zero. Like ships that pass in the night they gave no indication of being aware of each other, both intent on their own plans.

The world is full of so much that astonishes. "It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world," poet Mary Oliver writes. Tim saw the elaborate spider web on a sailboat (not ours) and pointed it out to me. Each fine filament is beaded with moisture. Such a wonder. 

As Mary says, "Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it."

We're off again to see my parents (hooray) this weekend! It's been 10 months since we've been together. The next few days are predicted to be very hot, so I'm sorting out the lightest summer clothing to wear. 

Have a most wonderful weekend, dear readers.

Paying Attention

Mary Oliver begins her poem "The Summer Day" with 
"Who made the world? 
Who made the swan, and the black bear? 
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean..." 

Notice how her focus changes from broad to narrow? On our boating trip to Princess Louisa (see previous post), I was, at first, a little put out about the smoke that hampered our views of this magnificent place. I could have groused and grouched about it. 

I gave myself a mental shake and decided to focus, as Oliver did, on the specifics. All of these photos were taken within view of the top photo, a wider view of Chatterbox Falls.

How delicate are the white blossoms, less than 1/2 inch long, that bloomed in the grass. I don't know their name, and they don't care about that. 

The curving symmetry of an unfurling fan. I stared at it for some time, and now, when I study the photo, I remember crouching down on the soft moss at the edge of a clearing, listening to the silence.

Green fans and white stars in the woods. Oliver goes on, in her poem to say, 
"I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed..."

I think that paying attention is a form of prayer, in which I acknowledge the Creator's attention to detail and His care in forming these hidden delights. 

The colours were mostly shades of green and brown, but the occasional colourful flower popped like a staccato note in music. 

Tangles of moss dripped from trees in this damp, lush setting.

Isn't this fungus amazing? 
Oliver concludes her poem with these words,
"Tell me, what is it you plan to do 
with your one wild and precious life?"

Her question is one I ask myself from time to time. Am I paying attention? - not only to nature, but to people and to myself. Life is short, but it's an amazing gift. Too short to waste.

Paying Attention

"Instructions for living a life:

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it."

These words from a poem by Mary Oliver came to mind as I looked at some of my recent photos. Tiny succulents sprawl on rocks. Ferns spring up from mossy soil, so happy now that the rains have come.

It is true that life is a mixed drink of joy and anguish. Paying attention to the beauty of God's creation is one way I fortify myself against some of the anguish. It doesn't change the pain, but it changes me as I come to grips with the tiny part I play in life on this earth. 

Here's paying attention of another kind - attention to detail. I'm pleased with the way my jacket turned out - it fits well, it's comfortable, and it's stylish. It's not perfect. 

As I pack up my school bag and head out the door, I wish you all a day that has moments of astonishment. Pay attention. Tell about it. I'd love to hear.