On Being Open

 

Teacher in-service began last Monday. It was a week of on-line meetings, face-to-face discussions with a few colleagues, and a lot of room organization. I moved all of my teaching supplies to a new classroom and have it mostly set up. We've been informed about when to wear masks and when not to wear them. There are sanitizing stations in each classroom. The entire schedule has been altered. By Friday my head was swimming. 

We had arranged to go out on the boat on Saturday with a work colleague of Tim's who is thinking of getting into boating. I've met him once or twice, and his wife never. I didn't know if we would have anything in common and I didn't want to find out.  All I really wanted to do was stay home and putter. 

However, needs must and off we went, meeting M and C at the dock. Lovely people. I made some tea and coffee and we chatted as we chugged our way to Portland Island. Once there we set out on a hike across the island. 

Things have changed dramatically since our visit there just 3 weeks ago. The quality of light is softer, more diffused. Bright green leaves are fading to muted shades.

I noticed that C was stopping often to take photos. It turns out that she sees things much the same way that I do. We began pointing out interesting things along the way. What do the drying leaves in the above photo look like to you? C thought they resembled sleeping bats, and I thought chrysalises. 

How still the forest is, with a deep silence broken only by bird song, and our human movements and voices. As we walked, I felt my earlier irritation leave me as C and I often found ourselves stopping to photograph the same things - a shaft of light filtering through the trees, or a twisted leaf on a fir branch. 

We chatted about the intricacy of nature's patterns, and the beauty all around us. 

We shared stories of our past and by the end of the hike, I had made a new friend. I was once again humbled by the way that I was given this gift in spite of my earlier reluctance. I'm reminded of how God often surprises me with good things at most unexpected times. 

Queen Anne's Lace grows with wild abandon. The white umbrel blossoms are so pretty and delicate. As the blooms mature they close into tight bundles to protect the seeds inside. The closed flowers dry out and detach from the stem to blow about scattering seed for another year's blooms. 

This apple tree is amazing. Its trunk is completely hollow, yet there are branches thriving above, heavily laden with ripening apples. This hole in the trunk gives a view through the trees to the water beyond. 

Openness enables us to see things and experience things we might not otherwise have learned. This is a lesson I hope to take into this school year, so full of uncertainty and disruption. 

"There's just some magic in truth and honesty and openness."

Frank Ocean 

A Quick Friday Five

 

Summer is flying by and we're making the most of it. In the past 10 days we've taken the boat out to Portland Island, just an hour away. The first time we took family, the second time our tenants who came from a country in the Middle East where things look very different. 

A group of fat seals eyed us very closely and slid into the water just after I took this photo. 

Queen Anne's Lace is blooming everywhere - along roadsides and trails, and in the midst of clearings. It's such a pretty weed.

Our first outing was with Miss Iris and her parents. Here she is trying on Nana's hat. She soon took it off and handed it back to me. 

Dahlias are blooming in my garden, and tall stalks of white phlox. A parsley plant gone to seed provided some green in a bouquet. 

This Secret Rose slumbered for a few weeks, but is now covered with large, beautifully scented blooms. 

And one extra photo - of a quick bouquet in pink and white clipped this morning - phlox, rose, cosmo, zinnia, snapdragon. 

Have a most wonderful Friday and a good weekend ahead. It's supposed to get hot here, for two days. We could do with some heat. I have not yet had one ripe tomato and I'm beginning to wonder if I will get any at all this summer. It's rather discouraging, but I'm trying to focus on the good in the garden - wonderful zucchini, beets, carrots, blueberries. 

It's Friday - A Short Boating Excursion

 "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." Kenneth Grahame (Wind in the Willows)

Last weekend, as restrictions began to ease, we launched the boat and spent a quiet and relaxing couple of nights on the water, just an hour away from home. The weather alternated between rain and cloud, cloud and rain, with a very few patches of blue sky here and there. On Friday evening, before the weather worsened, we hopped into the dinghy and toured along the shoreline. It was very peaceful until the Canada Geese decided we were coming too close and honked loudly to warn others of our proximity. 

This was our view the next morning. Still, with soft rain falling. No matter, we were cozy and dry, and enjoyed a good breakfast and cups of tea and coffee long into the morning. There was no rush to do much of anything. 

When the rain eased we stirred ourselves and took the dinghy to shore, beaching it on the sand and tying the painter to a driftwood log before setting off on a hike through the forest. 

We stopped and watched a variety of wildlife, including this group of fat seals lounging on the rocks. A pair of seal pups had enough of the inactivity. They played together like a pair of young boys, splashing and wrestling. The repeated whacks of their tails on the water echoed far. 

A pair of oyster-catchers poked along the inter-tidal zone with their long red beaks. From the boat that evening we watched seven river otters fishing for their supper. Down they went into the water, then up into the air with their catch wriggling until - gulp - down the gullet it went. Over and over the sleek otters dove and rose until, satisfied, they melted away into the dusk. 

This pair of geese appear to be having a disagreement. The one on the left was quite vocal as he/she marched off in the opposite direction. 

In 1958 Portland Island was given to Princess Margaret, our Queen's sister, to commemorate her visit to our province. She returned it in 1967 and it is now a park. But long before then First Nations peoples had a village here. In the mid-late 1800s Hawaiians settled here, planting orchards and gardens. There is little that remains, but in the abandoned orchard a pair of bright goldfinches caught my eye. 

Weathered pieces of sea glass always catch my eye and I pick them up to add to my collection here at home. 

We returned home on Sunday, with Monday a holiday here to commemorate Queen Victoria's birthday. I worked in the garden most of the day. It's starting to fill out and soon we will be enjoying more homegrown vegetables. The first strawberries are turning red and I did eat one luscious ripe juicy fruit. 

It's been another week of distance teaching. Students will have the option to return to school as of June 1, but it's unlikely that many of those in the high school will choose that option. 

We're looking forward to some family time this coming weekend, including a visit from our Vancouver people. Little Miss Iris is coming and I can hardly wait to see her. She's almost one and so much fun via Skype! Seeing her in person will be so much more fun! 

Have a great weekend, friends. 

Mosaic Monday: On the Water

Boating stepped aside this summer as we traveled further afar than our own waters. "Surely," we thought, "we'll get out on the boat a few times." 

Nothing much happens if it's not planned for, so we penciled in a date. The weather cooperated beautifully and we spent two nights on the water. In the above photo, Mount Baker, in Washington State, rises tall into the clouds.

Our view from our anchorage in Princess Bay, off Portland Island. As the light faded into darkness, one single shooting star fizzled off the the bow. 

Saturday morning, after a hearty breakfast, we set out to walk around the island. Three hours and about 6.5 kilometres later we arrived back at the dock.

Recent rains have brought a little more green to our area, but there's no mistaking the coming season. 

The mere act of getting on the boat and anchoring just an hour away from home is the most relaxing thing I know. It's as if when we pull away from the dock we leave lists, lesson plans, worries, and the "shoulds" of every day life behind. 

A branch of dry Garry Oak leaves arches over the water. September skies are bluest of all the months, I believe, and that deep colour is intensified in the water.

Plenty of wild things crossed our path, on both water and land. A family of raccoons clambered over an old apple tree, a lithe river otter slipped out of sight into a pile of driftwood on the beach, gulls flapped, and cormorants spread their wings to dry on the rocks. Two white swans glided by the boat near shore, and in the deepest water black fins sliced upwards and curved quickly down.

Home again this afternoon, with sunlight sparkling on the water and mellow light filtering through trees just beginning to change colour.

A new week lies ahead, filled with meetings, students, lessons and the unknown good and not-so-good. 

Linking with Maggie who hosts Mosaic Monday, on her Normandy Life blog.

It's Cooler on the Water

Saturday. 6:28 am. Uncannily calm water. Tim and I launch the boat early. 
 

The sun in the east shimmers behind light clouds. Granola, yogurt, hardboiled eggs and tea for breakfast. We anchor. Nap. At 9:30 we head back to the dock and pick up our passengers - our visitor from Australia along with Eldest Daughter and Husband, and a Little Miss.

A seal swims nearby. Curious. Watchful. He soon dives under the cool sea.
 

The sea sparkles (or "farkles" as someone says). We anchor and stern tie in Royal Cove and hike a short distance to a rocky shore. Blue water dotted with boats of all sorts - big, small, mostly white. They pass to and fro.

Open areas on the island are sere and golden. They prompt the Little Miss - "this grass is poky, Nana." We name the place "The Island of Poky Grass." 
 

On the white midden beach she prepares dishes of Cobb Salad with Chicken for us. I line them up in a row for a photo and sadly, that stops the game. Patience, Nana.
 

Tiny crabs. Tinier snails. Sea anemones. Waving seaweed of emerald, red, white. Tidal pools are micro-worlds of life. It takes time to sit and watch. To pay attention. To marvel.
 

A gull dives down and pulls up lunch - a squirming starfish. We watch as he chews, gulps, and swallows. There is a big lump in his neck, but as he stands there, the lump slowly descends and disappears. Does the starfish wriggle yet?
 

The sun glares down. Heat shimmers on the land. Sea breezes cool. Treasures are captured by camera and left to delight another passerby. We return to the boat for lunch, followed by naps and reading.

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Judith of Lavender Cottage Gardening.

Five on Friday

1. I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday (I'm posting this Thursday night). It's been a long week. Report cards are done, classes went reasonably well although students are beginning to get squirrelly. 

2. A few photos from last weekend's boating trip. Youngest daughter with her niece (Miss S) and yours truly above, setting out on a beautiful morning. 

3. I still have so much to learn about the camera I bought last September (I can hardly call it my new camera anymore). But I was pleased with the diffusion behind the delicate branches in the above photo.
 

3.5 (I'm cheating a little.) The view through the trees on Portland Island. The beauty is almost overwhelming. Some days it feels as though my heart will swell out of my chest with emotion.  Thanks be to God for such a marvelous world.
 

4. The small views are no less amazing. Clusters of mussels, tiny curled snails, and barnacles of sundry sorts live in the intertidal zone.

4.5 Aren't these interesting? They look like little nosegays. I looked in a couple of field guides but couldn't find out what the plant is called. Does any reader know? 

edited to add: Thanks to Materfamilias for identifying the plant as Miner's Lettuce (Claytonia Perfoliata), an edible native plant. Interestingly, it was taken from North America to Europe where it became a "widespread edible weed" according to an article I read on line. Had I known what it was I would have gathered some for our dinner!
 

5. Just before sitting down to dinner on Saturday night. I had prepared a large quantity of Mexican shredded beef earlier in the week and frozen it. I put it into the slow cooker before heading out on the boat. When we got home we prepared the other ingredients and a salad and dinner was ready. The whole gang came over for that. Isn't the table runner pretty? It was a gift from our visiting friends who have recently moved back to the USA from Ecuador.

What's on your schedule this weekend? Our calendar is empty for the first time in a long while. I need to do some cleaning and laundry, but I also hope to do some sewing and gardening. We'll see. Maybe I'll just curl up with a book.

Personal Photography Challenge: August

This month's photography challenge subject was animals. I love watching animals in the wild, although I'm not particularly fond of pets in the house, nor visiting zoos. Each of these photos was taken while out and about.
 

This Moon Jellyfish is just one of dozens seen in Tod Inlet this weekend. I paddled around in the dinghy, pausing to look at the bottom and all the wonderful life scurrying about. These graceful jellyfish, about 8 inches in diameter, pulsated like translucent ghosts along the shore. This photo was taken with my IPhone and the contrast enhanced slightly.
 

An unintentional animal photo - I was intent on the flower and the bee photo-bombed the capture. The mad blur of wings indicates the speed he was going. Taken with my Nikon D7100 and nothing was done to the photo, taken on Portland Island.
 

This is another straight out of the camera photo, taken with my Nikon. Mr. and Mrs. Purple Martin. They were not very shy at all. Nesting boxes at the Ladysmith Marina were filled with their swooping comings and goings.

I'm late to the party this month as we've been out on the boat again. Tim returns to work on Monday so things will be a little more back to normal. 

Thanks to Donna for hosting the Photography Challenge.

Summer and the Sea

We've named our boat Solitude, as in "a place apart." Here she is on a clear Saturday morning just after launching. There is nothing like being out on the water for the sense of getting away from it all. The cares and worries of life slip away and relaxation unlike anything I've experienced before sets in. 
 

On this morning, Tim had a co-pilot, complete with life jacket and sunglasses. She was so excited. Out on the water a police boat came alongside and asked us to slow down. I thought maybe they would board and check for licences and safety equipment, but no, they just wanted to compliment Little Miss A for wearing her life jacket and gave her some stickers, an activity book and other little items. Kudos to the RCMP!
 

After anchoring in Princess Bay, Tim took A out for a ride in the little dinghy. I love the way she rests her arm on his leg, watching every move he makes. He took her along the shore and pointed out various features. She had a hard time staying seated and Tim later said he kept his fingers hooked into her life jacket.
 

On the little island (Portland again) I crouched to snap a photo of this wildflower. A bee buzzed in at the last moment in a frenzied photo bomb. You can see how fast his wings were moving. The grasses that were so green a month ago are drying already, golden and rustling in the breeze.

 There's still plenty of green. Green trees, bushes, and dark rock meld beautifully with blue sky and sea. 

Homeward bound we wait for a ferry. On the water it can be difficult to judge distances. The ferries are big and move fast - they aren't as maneuverable as smaller boats so it's best to stay out of their way. If you are near a ferry and hear five loud blasts from its horn, know that it's saying something like, "what on earth are you doing? Get out of the way!"

And now, another week begins. I'll be attending a graduation, meeting with a few friends, gardening, cooking, and sewing. An ordinary week, if there is such a thing.