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I am utterly fascinated and captivated by the unique unfurling of each frond of the ferns in the forest. Each one unfurls in its own individual way. None are critical of how the other is doing opening up, they are just all opening, easing the tightness of each part and easing into openness.
Like a colossal paw on the forest floor, a giant cedar rests on the ground. The limbs that spread from its trunk are now trees themselves, nourished from the strong trunk with its roots still pressed into the soil.
The brilliant fresh green of the deer-foot (a.k.a. vanilla leaf) and more properly Achlys triphylla -- it is a delight to see their slender stalks, and the tight leaves, like hands with their palms pressed together, then opening like praying hands opening to the light —
The flowers will emerge later but meanwhile these beauties light up the forest floor everywhere the sun filters through.
I’ve walked past this particular huckleberry for years but it was only yesterday I noticed the extraordinary lesson it was offering.
A metaphor of rootedness perhaps?
The stump that offered it life, and a strong base for its young life, has rotted quite thoroughly and is continuing to fall away, yet the strong roots continue to hold the huckleberry steady.
What a marvel! I’m going to think on this… but meanwhile, I wonder what it says to you?
From a crevice in the cracked sandstone ridge, a slender young hemlock tree stretches up into the light. Sheltered by the large cedars, the sunlight filters through.
As the sun filters through the canopy, a bit of light falls on the huckleberry…. Moment by moment, as we walk through the forest, small beauties and larger ones are lit up. I never tire or walking the trail, as its always different as the angle of light shifts with the time of day, and with the seasons. Even on gloomy or rainy days, a walk in the forest trail is a deep joy.
Walking along the Bluffs, when the clouds enveloped the hillside, most of the view was obscured, hidden in the mists.
On a clear day, my eye is drawn to the array of islands, Mayne, Prevost, Saltspring, and the larger hills of southern Vancouver Island, and even the gorgeous Olympics beyond. Eagles often soar above and beneath us and the sound of sea lions ascends from the Pass.
But on this misty day, it was different. It offered a distinctive beauty only ‘visible' when the mist obscures those things that draw the eye on a clear day. It seems that its on misty days the shape of things is revealed. The lichens gleam bright on the darker fir limbs, the mosses almost glow.
It was in the fog and mist that I noticed the beauty of one tall snag: one I have seen frequently, but not til the mist obscured most everything else did I note its structure, its curves, its peculiar bare beauty.
Makes me wonder what other beauty I am missing when the sky is clear, and the days are bright.
This morning’s walk in the forest was a delight with the sun slanting through and highlighting the shapes of trees and roots.
A couple of times I simply had to stop and note the way the sun was highlighting a particular place, as though it was important for us to look and see the lines, the design, the light and shadow.
This photo is one of several I took at those moments, noting what nature’s spotlight was showing me.
What ‘Nature’s Spotlight’ has pointed out to you today?
Much of our coastal forest is made up of western red cedar, and sadly many of these giants of our forest are dying with the shift of climate. There simply isn't enough water for their needs. Maybe this is why this single cedar offers me hope, provides some encouragement. There’s a clearing all around it while it stands in its singular beauty. Healthy and vibrant. The forest gardeners are no where in sight, but the signs of their labours remain. And the tree is flourishing: a signal of care.
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.
