Blogtober 1: A Change in the Air

 

There's definitely a feeling of autumn these days. A freshness in the air, the slant of the sun, a golden hue to the light, and a coolness to the wind. 

We went for a hike down to the water at McKenzie Bight and although the sky was a mix of sun and cloud, it felt as though rain might fall. How the temperature has changed! Long sleeves and socks are the norm, not the exception. 

We don't see a lot of colour in our mostly coniferous forests, and what we do have comes a bit later. But there is plenty to notice. This tiny mushroom on its frail looking stem had me squatting down to take a photo. Only when I saw it on my computer, I noticed the miniscule white fungi growing nearer the ground. An amazing world of miniatures. 

Late Sunday night the rain began and continued throughout most of Monday. I could almost hear the ground and trees opening up and soaking in the moisture. It's been so very dry. 

The rain bowed down one of the sunflower stalks, so I cut it and brought the flowers indoors. Now they glow in the living room. 

"Dear old world," she murmured, "You are very lovely,

and I am glad to be alive in you."

"I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."

L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

I'm joining in with Blogtober again this year, attempting to post daily for the next 31 days. Barbara from Coastal Ripples is also joining in. 

On another note, I've put the recipe for the Apple Cake mentioned in my last post onto the recipe blog. Just click the link. 

Blogtober Five: Saturday in October

 

Hiking or walking? When I put one foot in front of another in my neighbourhood I call it walking, even if I'm going through the woods. Hiking takes more effort and the terrain is rougher. Today's outing was definitely a hike. Up and down, clambering over rocks, huffing and puffing at the steep climbs. Several hours out in the woods on an October afternoon was most lovely. 

Trees here are mostly coniferous; cedar, hemlock, and fir, with some deciduous golden maples whose leaves turn yellow and brown rather than red. 

We arrive at McKenzie Bight, a shallow curve along the shoreline. The streams are dry, but will soon fill as the autumn rains come. Gentle waves lap at the shoreline, clouds dull the sky, and not a bird in sight. A crow caws loud and insistent from the top of a tree, but we never catch a glimpse.

A cluster of barnacles clings to a rock, visible at low tide. Tiny black snails perch among the rough barnacles. 

Mountains march right down to the shoreline along much of our coast. 

Native arbutus trees (arbutus menziesii) grow within 8 kilometres (5 miles) of the ocean. The tree's distinctive peeling bark has earned it the name of "crazy lady tree" because only a crazy lady would take off her clothes in the winter time.

Our hike took about three hours - I did a bit of housekeeping, made soup, and read for the remainder of the day. Mellow. 

Bright rosehips against the forest, anchored on both sides by cobwebs. One thing I really dislike is walking into a cobweb. The feel of it on my face has me brushing frantically. This week I walked with my youngest grandchild, 3 1/2. She wanted to play hide and seek, so off she went into the woods. I kept an eye out while pretending to not watch her, so she didn't go too far. When I heard a sharp scream I asked what was wrong. Nothing. Not a peep. She stood there, frozen, completely silent, wide-eyed. Then I noticed the cobweb, with a little bug on it, across her cheek. When I brushed it away, she relaxed, but thought we should stay on the path. 

Evening now. Lamps are glowing. A bouquet of sunflowers sits on the table. Time to get out some stitching and later watch Midsomer Murders. 

Thank you to those who are following along with Blogtober. It's a fun challenge, and it's never to late to join in!

McKenzie Bight on a Grey Sunday

 

Bight: a concave bend or curvature in a coastline, usually broad, open, and shallow

While finishing breakfast this morning, he looked at me, and I looked at him, and after a little hemming and hawing, we decided to leave immediately for a little hike instead of waiting until later in the day. It was a good choice, for the afternoon was considerably rainier than the morning. 

Our destination was McKenzie Bight. It's a beautiful trail from the parking lot to the water, winding along a creek bed and alongside a lacy waterfall. It's very steep, about 150 metres (a a bit less than 500 feet), and I always think about the walk back, all up hill, as we descend. 

The view is worth the effort. On this particular morning McKenzie Bight, on Saanich Inlet, was the feeding place for a large variety of waterfowl - Barrow's Goldeneye, Common Mergansers, Buffleheads, and more. Mist drifted down from the forests in silence, softening the colours to so many shades of grey. 

This particular gull was mild and friendly, unlike one of his buddies who, instead of looking for his own food, tried to steal from the various ducks. Luckily, ducks can dive down into the water much deeper than gulls, and the aggressive gull got nothing for his efforts. 

The air and water were so still, rippled only by the ducks paddling and diving. We watched the lighter coloured ducks under the clear water, swimming here and there in search of things to each. One, close to us, brought up a mussel in its bill, and proceeded to swallow it whole, shell and all. After I got home I looked up ducks and mussels, and discovered that they crush the shells in their gizzards and then digest the flesh. That's a strong gut!

Another view, towards shore, showing all the green shades of this misty morning. It does look like a rainforest. 

Earlier in the week I saw Wood Ducks in a pond with Iris. They are so pretty. This one came close, probably because of the oats Iris was flinging his way. 

Other than our early walk, this rainy grey Sunday has been spent quietly. Now it's time for a little supper, and later, an episode of Foyle's War. We've seen them before, but they remain enjoyable to watch. 

Have a most lovely week. 

August Long Weekend: Here and There

 

There: We sat on the rocks overlooking the water and chatted with good friends. McKenzie Bight is a fairly short hike, just over a kilometre or more down a steep trail to the water. Who goes down must come up, and I'm glad it was a comfortable day, temperature-wise. How dry the forest is and how lovely to sit and listen to the water lap at the shore and watch gulls soar so effortlessly. 

Here: I made a few jars of dill pickles. Recipes have changed over the years. I'm sure my grandmother never sealed her pickles in a water bath, but ensured the jars were very hot and the brine hot when poured in. I read recently that the blossom end of cucumbers should be cut off before pickling them, hence the flat ends in the jars. I really wonder how much safer it all is. 

Here: A Bolero rose from the garden where the hot dry weather has slowed down the number of blossoms on the roses. They are forming once again and I look forward to more blooms. 

Here: Peach season begins. They are so sweet and juicy, and the season is all too short. A salad with grilled chicken, sliced snowpeas, red onion, peaches, and basil hit the spot one warm evening. A squeeze of lime and swirl of olive oil to finish, and a slice of bread to accompany it - dinner done!

Here: Saturday was cooler, in part, I think, due to the smoke haze covering the sun. It was high and didn't really affect us much. I tackled our small walk-in closet, removing everything and piling the clothes on the bed and shoes and other paraphernalia on the floor. It's amazing how much stuff was stored there. I dusted and vacuumed, then steam cleaned, sorted through everything and re-organized. It took much longer than I'd anticipated, but looks neat and tidy. There's another rack to the right of the photo for my dresses and Tim's blazers, suits, and other coats. 

Looking at the photo I notice the dominance of blue in my clothing, and in his. 

Here: One of the hydrangea bushes is a vivid purple, and so full and lush. I've been cutting big bouquets and small ones. This is a row of clear bottles and vases lined up on the window next to our breakfast table, overlooking our patio. I love hydrangeas for their exuberant blooms, and of course, the blue tones. 

There: Sculptural dried grasses on the rocks overlooking the Saanich Inlet today. 

And so August begins. I'm always a little taken aback when this month arrives for although it's still warm and beautiful, it marches to the end of summer. Perhaps I'll feel differently this year knowing that I won't be going back to teaching after the Labour Day weekend. I do want to enjoy each day to its fullest and not be looking ahead too much. I've seen photos of Halloween and even Christmas on some sites and quickly scroll past them, for summer is so short and so beautiful that it warrants all the attention it deserves. 

How do you feel about August? Enjoy this glorious month!

A Sunday Afternoon Walk to McKenzie Bight

It was far too nice a day to spend indoors. After church I put on my hiking boots, we grabbed a water bottle and few snacks and off we went. 
As we walked we discussed the meaning of the word "bight." He was right; I was wrong. 
A bight is a geographical term for a "slight bend or recess in a coastline or river. It typically indicates a large, open bay, often only slightly receding."  

Once we reached the water, we tried taking some photos with the delayed timer. I pushed the button, clambered down some rocks and up some more, trying to get to Tim's side within the 10 seconds. I've shared a couple of the attempts in the collage. We moved to an easier access point before claiming success.
It's high time to investigate a remote!

Such a pretty day. In the forest, we stood still and heard fir needles dropping like soft rain. A leaf let go and sashayed downwards, rustling when it touched a branch. There is still much green in the woods, and a definite feel of autumn crispness in the air. 

This is the kind of day that I wish would go on and on. As Anne of Green Gables says, "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."

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

A Walk in the Woods to the Ocean

I stand still. A leaf falls, slowly twirling downwards to land on a fallen log. A cool wind sighs in the treetops. The sun streams through the branches, but it cannot completely warm the air any longer.
 

We arrive at McKenzie Bight. Light filters through tired green to sparkle on the water.  One hardy soul swims around the point. "He must be crazy," we think. "Or very brave."
 

Mosses and grass flourish now. A bit of rain works wonders although the waterfall is still dry. The filtered light beyond the moss captures the palette of this late September afternoon.
 

A toadstool springs up from under a dry leaf. On such a golden day it would have been a crime to stay indoors. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Judith of Lavender Cottage, and with Through My Lens, hosted by Mersad.

Taking a Closer Look

This photo showed up in an earlier post. The arbutus tree is gorgeous, etched elegantly against the water and distant shores. But did you notice that dried out section of tree near the bottom of the photo? 
 

Tree rings and layers, texture and colour fill each crevice of wood. 

 

 Weathered, twisted wood, beautifully intricate.

The plant in the inset photo grows on the rock in the foreground of the larger photo. It would be easy to walk by and not see the succulent leaves, the pattern of two opposing leaves, or feel the smooth texture. Having my camera has helped me to slow down a little outdoors, to take the time to bend down, to look and to see.

I was reminded of this poem by Emily Dickinson - 

"Nature" is what we see --
The Hill - the Afternoon - 
Squirrel - Eclipse - the Bumble bee - 
Nay - Nature is Heaven - 
Nature is what we hear - 
The Bobolink - the Sea -
Thunder - the Cricket -
Nature is what we know - 
Yet have no art to say - 
So impotent Our Wisdom is
to her Simplicity.

Linking with Mary of the Little Red House to Mosaic Monday.

Vistas Grand and Minute

The trail down to McKenzie Bight slopes downward. Each time I walk it, I think of the return trip, all uphill. We've discovered another route, one that is steeper at first, but levels off for the last half of the return hike. Today, as we returned, I could hear the rushing water from a distance. This waterfall, so impressive now in January, dries to a trickle in the summertime. We stood and gazed at the waterfall for a long time, enjoying the play of water against the rocks. Admiring nature is a good excuse for catching one's breath.
 

This arbutus tree glowed in the late afternoon almost-sunshine. The branches really are that red. Amazing.
 

I used the timer setting to capture a photo of the two of us drinking our tea on a rocky outcropping. 
 

Lovely water, trees, rocks and moss. Moss everywhere. Green as green can be. 

Lichens on a rock. I've been trying to identify this lichen. I think they are of the Cladonia genus, of the cup-bearing type. Perhaps Pixie Cup Lichens. Isn't that a poetic name?

Being outdoors on a chilly, but not rainy, day was a wonderful beginning to start 2013. I hope your first day of this new year was equally pleasant.