Usually the ducks and shorebirds take refuge and find quiet spots where its safe to seek their nourishment. But not these two I saw yesterday. While the NE Wind blew over 40knots, and the waves crashed ashore in the sandstone shallows, a lone female Goldeneye cruised through the tossing waves and dove and fished and bobbed bravely continuing her search for a good meal. And on the rocks above, a single Killdeer stood stoutly in the face of the oncoming sea.
Watching these small birds I was struck by how spirited— even audacious— they were in the face of such powerful forces of wind and sea.
I took several photos while walking in Bellhouse Park a few days ago. But it was this one that I found myself drawn to.
There’s something in the image that touches me. Maybe its the way the two trees lean together— the tall slender one, and the one that’s broken…
The colours are muted and soft along the Heritage Forest Road, and the ground is rock hard, frozen solid. It may look like there’s little life in the landscape, that it everything is ‘dead’. Dull. How far from the truth!
As we walked the road what struck me was how many signals there were that even in the quiet stillness of winter, and its apparent barrenness, there is a pulsing vitality to the season: the creeks burble beneath a skim of ice, lichens hang conspicuously from limbs all round, colourful slime molds are ‘there’ for the observant eye as are various fascinating fungi; winter birds— wrens, sparrows, nuthatches, chickadees and towhees flit amongst the low shrubs while the finches and others occupy the higher branches; the deer meander and graze undisturbed. Surely the forest pulses with life as much in winter as any season.
I wonder if maybe the forest and its creatures enjoy the relative quiet. Maybe its their ‘sabbath’.
In the wintry chill of New Year’s Day afternoon we walked the trail to the beach from the Heritage Forest, down to Sticks Allison road and along the beach access. Its a favourite walk of ours particularly because of the way the little stream runs alongside the path. Where the trail opens to the sandstone shore, the fresh runoff of the stream fans out onto the sandstone and joins the Salish Sea.
The photo above was taken when it was nearly dark, with just the dim available light. It was far too cold to set up tripod and adjust camera settings— fingers and toes were quite thoroughly numb!! The result is, to me, a happy accident.
The days begin with a walk to Flagpole Point before breakfast.
In part it is a necessity, to walk the dog, but equally important is that this outing provides me a chance to appreciate the uniqueness of each morning. Though it is the same place, the variation is infinite: light, colour and texture in differing combinations.
The rising sun’s position is constantly shifting with the seasons, tides varying with moon-phase, wind and weather, clouds, fog, rain, or clear… Add to this, the cast of birds and small animals. I never know just what the morning jaunt will offer: kingfishers, herons, otters, harlequins, eagles, mink, seals…
It has long been my habit to record these first glimpses of the day there with a few photos, usually just on my iPhone, but sometimes with my ‘big’ camera. Recently it occurred to me to share some of my morning glimpses with others, so I created a Flickr Album Mornings at Flagpole Point which you can view here.
My aim is to post one a day. Sometimes, like yesterday when we had a power outage I couldn’t post. There are bound to be other missed days here and there, but mostly it’ll be a daily photo.
Thanks so much for enjoying these glimpses of the world with me.
Walking on the island’s shores is like walking in a gallery filled with sculptures masterfully wrought and generously offered for all to enjoy. Here are a few glimpses of yesterday’s meandering through the gallery.
What can be found in the deserts of the Negev, in Antarctica, the Isle of Skye, Germany, India…and Galiano Island?
Here on Galiano Island our coast is predominantly sandstone, and features amazing tafoni from north to south. In all its spectacular shapes, hollows, lacework and lattice, it provides endless fascination as the light plays on it, highlighting its contours and patterns. The photo here (above) was taken on our own flagpole point, and I’ve included a gallery below with several other photos I’ve posted over the past while.
Goodness knows we all need some refreshment. We need some rain. So.. mindful of our need, and the thirsty soil around us, I thought this photo of a sweet pea in my garden after a much needed rain some time ago was a fitting reminder that the rain and its refreshment will come. Sometime. If not today…
This afternoon I’ve added a new gallery to the already existing ones on my blog. I’ve included 21 photos from my meanderings around Galiano, to offer glimpses of this and that…birds, berries, flowers, sunrises and more. And maybe a touch of refreshment too.
You can find the Photo Galleries by clicking on the Photo Galleries text on the left sidebar, and you can find the newest gallery either on that page or by clicking here.
Since my early days spending my summers exploring the beach, clambering on logs, playing day-long games and building forts with my friends, the tangle of silvered roots has evoked imagination and stories, conjured images of creatures both friendly and fierce.
I don’t clamber quite so quickly now, and I am exploring different beaches, but my love of the driftwood shapes remains as active as ever— it is simply part of me. (Rooted in me?) Yesterday’s walk along the sandstone shore, this marvellous root caught my imagination again, and I’ve played with the image just for fun, and wanted to share it here.
I wonder what creatures you see? and what stories it suggests?
glimpses of the extraordinary amidst an ordinary day