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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.
In the morning and in the afternoon, the sunlight highlights the beauty all around…. The salmon berry blossom in the morning light (below), and the flowering currant in the afternoon as the sun lowers…
every morning starts with its own unique light and possibilities.... below is a sampling of mornings this past week, April 1 to 7, 2024
We are enjoying the Anna's and Rufous Hummingbirds visiting the flowers and feeders, distributing delight with every single visit. Such a treat to see so many!
Here are a few more recent photos....
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.
