Spring Sunrise over Sandpiper

 Pictures just can't do justice to the perfect stillness of an island morning punctuated by the reverie of the loons, the geese, the ducks, and the thrush.  Only closing my eyes can bring the sunrise back to life.


 I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk.  But it's spring, and the thrush is in the woods, somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing.  
And so now I am standing by the open door.  And now I am stepping down on the grass.  I am touching a few leaves.  I am noticing the yellow butterflies move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field.
And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening is the real work.  Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem. - Mary Oliver

Sunrise Over The Salish Sea

On Hornby Island, everyone knows Galleon Beach is famous for its sunsets.  People gather in droves to watch the sun dip behind Vancouver Island and celebrate the beginning of the night.  But over here on the east facing side of the island we share the secret pleasure of sunrise; the meditative start to the day and the mounting excitement as the sun climbs into the sky over the mirror of the sea.  Seeing nature electrify the day inspires me to do the same, making sure I give just as good as I got.

Welcome Spring!

Let the good times roll.

Every Time It Snows I Still Hear Joyce

"A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window.  It had begun to snow again.  He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight.  The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward.  Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland.  It was falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves.  It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried.  It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns.  His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead." - The Dead, James Joyce

All Things Being Equal

A good friend challenged me to go to Helliwell and look away from the grandeur to take in the smaller beauty instead.  I must admit it was difficult task especially on a sunny day in February when the towering mountains on Vancouver Island were covered with fresh snow.  But pretty soon my eyes readjusted and I could see the merit in her request.  

Storm Break

I'm slowly realizing a west coast secret; there is nothing like walking inside the storm.  The combined thrill of wind pushing you and cold rain washing your face, the surf filling your ears and nothing but grey in sight.  As a kid my mom never let me outside during the rain.  This feels like my second chance to finally get out and play.  

Sandpiper In Winter

One of our best New Year's resolutions is promising ourselves to get outside everyday this year.  I'm learning that there really is no bad day at the beach.  The fresh sea air, the solitude, the lunar landscape and the quiet rush of the wind and surf make our local beach a soothing salve for the winter doldrums.

In Our Backyard

No one has ever accused us of being trailblazers.  So you can imagine our laughter and delight when, after living here four years, we finally discovered the web of trails that lead up the mountain and across the island right behind our home and across Central Road.   Literally five minutes out our front door and you are lost to the world and immersed into the beauty of the forest.  Before this startling revelation I had been driving half way across the island to start my hikes.  Makes me wonder what else besides the mountain is lurking behind my corner.

The entrance of trails is graced by our friend Graham's painting.  An inviting a marker as ever there was one. 
Our tiny island just got a lot bigger for me.  Hilarious!

Sunrise Over A Couple Of Islands

The payoff for waking up in the cold dark to catch the first ferry of the day.

Another Sunday In The Park

I don't come to Helliwell as often as I'd like or would care to admit.  Remarkably the sun never disappoints making it all that more incomprehensible and spectacular, especially this close to winter.   Ahhh, this sweet life.

Family Dreams

Michael's dad came to visit us this week.  Terry is part inspiration for our living on Hornby.  His own mother instilled in him a life long love for nature and rural living.  Every summer during his childhood she would take him and his sister to a cottage she bought sight unseen on an island in the Lake Of The Woods.  In the beginning years she rowed them out to it with all the supplies they would need for the three months they lived there; without power, without phone, without distraction or pollution.  Terry passed that heritage to his sons and it irrevocably shaped their lives.  In moments of stress and uncertainty, it has provided a stillness and an anchor for Michael.  As an adult Michael would introduce it to me and I would fall in love with barefoot summers spent with family and the luxury of time and quiet.  And I now owe to a woman I never met  a legacy to last my whole life long.


Sunrise between Denman and Vancouver Island.  Just another sunrise over our beautiful planet.

Farther Afield

We took advantage of the perfect Autumn day to ride across both Hornby and Denman and have lunch at the Kaffee Klatsch.  It makes for the perfect day trip; a good long bike ride through gorgeous scenery and a ferry ride to boot.  Oh, and great coffee and pear turnovers (how could I forget?).   One of the best changes to come into our lives since moving to Hornby is that we ride our bikes everywhere and   how seldom we use our car.   Its a great feeling when we realize we haven't filled up on gas in over a month.  And the lack of traffic on either island makes it safe and gives us more of a chance to appreciate the quiet beauty around us.  

Casting New Light

"Each practice brings us back to the importance of now.  Our achievements are simply the by-products of our ability to realize the potential of the present moment.  That is what we are here to learn.  That is the juice."  - Rolf Gates, Meditations From The Mat

The Dog Days Of Summer

This heat wave has our 18 year old Sophie searching for the cool patch underneath her dog bed.  


Where did all our time go Holly?  It feels like yesterday when you first jumped into the bed full of spunk and curled your tiny body against mine to it declare your undisputed territory.  You measured our yesterdays by jumping out of canoes and into the lake, chasing away deer and running away from the rain, sitting on our feet/your couch waiting for your piece of the toast, and trading gentle kisses between your neck and my nose.  Today is measured in tears and ache but also the wonder that so small a frame could hold such a beautiful combination of courage and grace.  You are teaching me that time does not stand and the only real sin is taking it, and those around me, for granted.  I'm learning too that regretting isn't the same as remembering.  And I have so many good memories stored in my heart where I won't forget them.  I'll be forever grateful that we moved to Hornby for the last years of your long life where you shed your city leash and could roam and prowl free.

Today's Gift

 The return of the purple irises, gently washed with morning rain.

Remembering Erma

I never met her.   She was 95 when she passed and the oldest person on the island.  People both smile and frown when remembering her to me but her contribution is undeniable.  I teach in buildings she helped build and live in the wonderful Hornby community she helped shape.  She was here at a time when ordinary people leading simple lives accomplished uncommon things.  I know her daughters and I have heard some of the story of her life.  But wherever she is I am grateful she passed my way because she is a reminder that I better get busy writing my own story if it is going to be worth recounting one day.

My New Favourite Picture Of Us

A warm midsummer's night sparked by live music playing on an outdoor stage.  We are surrounded by friends and neighbours smiling, dancing, laughing and all around revelling in the fullness of our shared lives together on Hornby.  My date is the man who has taken me to every dance for the past 20 years, the love of my life who taught me dreams do come true.  And today, almost a year later, I receive a picture from my favourite photographer that perfectly captures all the joy of that magical evening.  Gratitude abounds.

A Little Patience

"When you are in doubt, be still and wait; when doubt no longer exists for you, then go forward with courage.  So long as mist envelops you, be still; be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists - as it surely will.  Then act with courage." - Ponca Chief White Eagle (18?-1914)

Image of our newest Buddha sitting across the stream that runs beside the front door.

The Beach Gallery

This dry winter has given me ample opportunity to enjoy Hornby's many beaches.  Being alone outdoors away from any signs of technology and mankind provides a special introspection.    Filling my lungs with salty air, my mind drifts easily between reality and fantasy and the shore's rough beauty takes on artistic merit.    I come home a changed man; calmer, quieter, clearer, and more appreciative of the times when life is rough.