When the sun came out after a morning of heavy rain, the light in the forest was dramatic. Intense and beautiful— light and shadow; texture and pattern; colours and hues.
light in the forest
Tag Archives: morning walks
the shape of things
A daily glimpse of 'the shape of things', in this case: our point— sculpted by storms and tides, the underlying rock and the soil's erosion, and the logs lodged against the shore to silver with age.
The shape of the point is determined by both the underlying rock, the storms' force and what the tides bring.
a bend in the road
The road rises and curves away out of sight. Who knows what's around the next corner... Meanwhile, right where we stand we're surrounded by beauty—a beauty that's both softened and strangely enhanced by the early spring mists. I stop to catch my breath, and admire the wonder of where I am before plugging on up the hill and to whatever awaits around the bend.
Early Spring at Finlay Lake
Finlay Lake Conservation Area - Click on image for a larger view
We'd wanted to walk in to Finlay Lake for a while, so with the sun shining brilliantly, it seemed a good day to set out for this quiet spot.
The path leading through the forest was bursting with spring shoots, and the birds were singing in the canopy above us, and the winter wrens and towhees rustling in the ferns and salal.
When the path opened to the lake there were a few Buffleheads on the far side, but otherwise all was still. Occasionally a raven's call echoed through the trees, and an eagle flew past. Otherwise, simply stillness— but a stillness that is burgeoning with life.
morning sky
The wide open canvas of the sky, and the extravagant swirl of cloud...
I stand here, small, waiting and in awe of what is given today even before I begin.
The rainforest in winter
I've always loved the forest. As a child I loved to explore trails in the woods, to build forts, and to take a picnic to a mossy spot and sit in the quiet— sometimes with a friend. The forest has always been a place of wonder and mystery for me.
It remains so— and to me it is most deeply mysterious and wonder-full in the depths of winter when the soaking rain and the January mist and fog moves amidst the trees. The strong shapes are softened and the moss and lichens become almost luminous in the shortened daylight, as though they thrive in the winter, enjoying the relief from the droughts of August.
Some people have told me they find these short darker days with the low hanging cloud wearying. For me, along with the lichen-bearded cedars, soaking their roots in the sodden earth, and the moss that is practically jubilant in its lush growth, this is a happy time of year. It's the season of rest and replenishment.
I'll be ready when the exuberance of spring comes, and I'll be ready to dry out in the summer. But for now, it's winter, and it is very good.
storm moving in
It looks like the forecast is matching what we saw as the sun rose this morning. Heavy rain and wind are in the offing. Meanwhile —there was a blaze of glory in the early light.
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I’ve added a few adjustments to this iPhone photo with Photoshop and Topaz Simplify get the image closer to what my 'eye' saw.
these precious last days …
Spending a few days in 'town' offers a chance to walk the paths along Mosquito Creek. The delight of these walks comes not only from the beauty alongside the tumbling creek-water, but the poignancy of recognizing these are likely last days before the green leaves the trees (so to speak). The sunlight shining through the still vibrant green is more precious perhaps because these days are so limited. But its not only the colour and light. For me its also their shadow patterns on the path — constantly shifting, and intriguing.
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The photo above is one of my favourite points on the trail where it diverges around a grand moss-clothed maple. To the left it goes down to the creek itself. To the right, up to the road. The main trail is straight ahead, past the maple, following alongside the creek.