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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.
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?
After a few good strong winds the beach is littered with fresh driftwood offerings… and some unexpected treasures. My eye was drawn at first by the marvellous tangle of roots. All the roots have been washed free of soil though likely on closer inspection there’ll be a few rocks and stones amidst th tangle. But it was a the treasure amidst the mess that my eyes finally rested on: the white bench, looking mostly, if not fully, intact. I wonder where it’s come from in its journey through the tides, and how it came to rest here, and who sat on it, and what stories it carries….
If you can’t identify this small treasure, look in the lower right of the frame amidst the logs….
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.
Light and shadow, the shapes of the trees and the openness of the sea as it stretches across to the mainland— the otters have left crab shells and a few crab legs on the point. Perhaps I scared them when they were feasting on the morning catch. A heron squawks loudly as it launches and slowly wings across the bay. Its a lovely bright morning. No low cloud and sea fog obscuring the view today. At least not right now.
In addition to the freshness of the early morning, and the colours of the sunrise, the first light shows the contours of the ground most clearly. Later, the contours are still there, of course, but not quite as easy to see.
A good reminder for me to 'take stock' first thing, while the lay of the land is clear and well lit.
Walking along the path to the beach, surrounded by a tangle of tall dried grasses, the grey twisted limbs of Ocean Spray and a tangle of bare wild rose canes, I was struck by the pattern and colour! Exquisite, wild and unexpected beauty, the designs, patterns and artistry. On both sides, all around.
With this image, the deeper I look, the more intriguing the patterns. And yet, I could have simply walked on past, thinking the only thing was to get to the beach at the end of the path…
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.
What is it you see when the fog enfolds?
The curves and lines in this image have been intriguing me since I captured it on Friday.
What keeps me looking is the contrast between the long clean lines that have been so carefully drawn in this garden, and the rough 'imperfect' lines and curves of the tree and its shadow. The intersection of these lines— their juxtaposition— provokes all sorts of thoughts for me.
I wonder what it suggests to you?
Yesterday, walking in Galiano's Heritage Forest, my eye was drawn to the shapes of the trees— the shapes that will soon be hidden by the profusion of leaves.
Mixed with the evergreens are are are several willow trees of varying kinds, along the main path. They’ve been there, as their size indicates, for years and years, but it wasn’t til yesterday that the light caught them in a certain way, and I ’noticed’ them. They are, to me, absolutely beautiful— the stature of the tree as a whole, and the detail of the slender curves…
I will likely post several more photos of these and other trees in the days ahead, either here or on my Curious Spectacles Facebook page which you can find here.
