Walking at the Bluffs in the winter, even on an overcast, drizzly day, offers a feast of colour, texture and shape. The trees are clothed in mosses, and draped with lichens. Here what caught my eye was the twists and curves of the Garry Oak. They were almost luminous with the deep greenness of the mosses, though much darker than the tangle of lichen covered branches in the foreground.
When the clouds are hanging low, the trails in Bluffs Park take on a different and more mysterious look. The mossy beauty is awesome. This particular trail (Moss Trail) winds through a spectacular portion of open forest, and is a visual treat on a foggy day. Or any day!
On Wednesday afternoon a flock of Surfbirds and Black Turnstone arrived at our beach. The chattering noise, and the flurry of wings… These are a few of the photos I took.
It’s interesting to note the relative size of the Surfbirds and Turnstones compared to the gulls. And also the distinction between the Surfbirds and Turnstones. The Turnstones have white on the leading edge of their wings and on their back. The Surfbirds have no white on their backs.
While the clouds were hanging low, and the incessant drizzle tempted us to stay inside by the fire, the awareness there was a new trail to explore drew us out. We put on our best wet weather gear and headed for the spot we’d heard of, and were rewarded with a magnificent adventure, getting yet another perspective on our lovely island.
The trail curved downwards through large cedars and firs, ferns and salal, and then a patch of wetland, before emerging on the sloping sandstone of the north east coast of Galiano. Though the trail isn’t long it took us some time, as we kept stopping to admire the curves and shapes and the rich beauty around us,
The fog has enfolded us for several days. We can barely see across our bay, and certainly can’t see any farther. At the same time, while our view is limited, there’s a different kind of beauty even now— even here shrouded in the mists.
In the forests, the mosses practically glow in the diffused light, and the depth of the forest is more ‘visible’ as the trees fade into the mist. On the roads, the shapes of the bare trees are revealed — unique sculptures, each one. Spider webs are strings of tiny beads, as the moisture forms on each slender thread.
Each morning, when I take the dog out for her first walk of the day, I venture out to the Point for a clear view of the morning’s light. If it has rained at all, I note the measurement in the rain gauge, and then empty it for the next 24 hour monitoring. And I take photos.
Every day is so different —the light, the angle of the sun, the patterns and textures of the clouds, the tide’s height in its constant ebb and flow, the way the waves are meeting the shore, the presence of various shore birds, gulls, otters and seals. Occasionally, on a very still morning, my attention is caught by the breath sounds of a humpback whale, and I see the spray of it’s powerful exhalation far out in the distance.
For over a year I’ve been documenting the mornings under the title ‘The Point this morning’. I had intended to do my photo project only for the 6 months from winter solstice to summer solstice, to note the wide varying of the sun’s position at sunrise. But these daily photo glimpses became such an important part of my day’s beginning, I carried on. Now, I can’t bear to give it up so I’m thinking I will contimue for the time being and see what happens…
I took this photo last week in the warmth of the afternoon light and the stillness of Whaler Bay. What caught my eye was the complex reflections with the fallen tree, the tangled lines of its branches both above and beneath the water and the curves of the sandstone intersected by the straight lines of the wharf’s shadow.
The resulting design is intriguing: another instance of the playful art of nature all around us.
The fawns are growing quickly. Their spots are gone, and they’re often on their own. This one visits our place at least once a day, if not more frequently along with quite a few others. As long as they all stay off our porch (away from the flower pots! ) I enjoy their company.
glimpses of the extraordinary amidst an ordinary day