Swamp lanterns in a copse of alders.
Late in winter, the leaden skies, the relentless drizzle and mist and the constantly mud-spattered car wear me down, and my spirit yields to despondency. Then a miracle happens. Here and there in wet ditches and in swampy areas, bright yellow flowers emerge. They sprout from the ground, bringing a welcome dash of colour to the monochrome bleakness. Suddenly my spirits rise and joy fills my heart. Spring is finally coming!
Because we’re emerging from the darkness
of a long, deadly pandemic, this season holds more hope for the future than ever. There is nothing lovelier than springtime on the islands. As the days get longer, the weather begins to warm up, and colorful flowers start rising from the damp soil, I’m ready to bask in the glory of the season. It’s my favourite time of year.
In addition to the skunk cabbage, more accurately known as a swamp lantern, a multitude of pink cherry blossoms have suddenly emerged, transforming formerly dull brown branches into a crescendo of brilliance. With the sun filtering through the colourful blossoms, highlighted against a cobalt sky, how can you not be optimistic and happy. Great things are coming!
The fresh growth holds a promise of coming warmth, richness and fertility. Even though I’ve have
A tulip ready to blossom.
witnessed a few springtimes before, this one is particularly moving, especially touching. I can’t help but feel that the coming year will be one of the best ever.
The signs of spring are everywhere. We are totally immersed in delicious scents and sights. Magnolias, I believe, have the most attractive blossoms in creation. Each white flower is a sculpture, beautifully curved and delicate in its colour. Elsewhere, bursts of daffodils with their bright yellow flowers shine forth from every garden and yard. The yellow blossoms are so eye-catching after a long winter.
Daffodils explode with white, green and yellow.
All life forms are captivated by springtime, and romance is in the air. Each morning our house reverberates to the loud rat-a-tat-a-tat on our metal roof of a male downy woodpecker trying to catch the attention of a prospective mate. The happy song of robins as they flitter about is another good sign of spring. Large birds circle on a thermal high above, having returned from distant migrations. Recently, I was shocked to hear a wolf howling, then a replying howl from a distance. But wolves don’t occur on the islands. I thought. On closer inspection, the howl was coming from high in a tree … the haunting mating calls of a pair of barred owls.
I find that walks in the forest are now a pleasure for many of the trees sport a new light green tinge of tiny buds, signaling that leaves will soon appear, perhaps to be speeded along by a rainfall and a few days of sunshine.
Fairies live below the daffodils.
Ah … springtime! My heart beats faster at the sights around us. Promise of rejuvenation lies in every blossom, flower and living creature. In the spring, life is full of hope.
For those planning a visit to the Southern Gulf Islands, welcome to a world that revolves around the Queen of Cumberland, the Salish Eagle, the Mayne Queen and the rest of the BC Ferries flotilla. Not only are the ferries vital links to the outside world, but travelers spend a goodly fraction of their waking hours with the ferry system.
The Stand, a food truck that has been permanently moored at the bottom of the Otter Bay terminal, is the place to stop for food and coffee before riding the ferry. I love to bite into the Brekkie Bun loaded with cheese, ham and a fried egg over easy.
If you’re tired from having arisen earlier than usual, you can even snooze. On most morning trips I see the odd passenger emitting quiet snores, with their eyes closed, and sometimes drooling on their neighbour’s shoulder.
Occasionally, ferries run late, thanks to the increased traffic due to the growing popularity of the islands. Often ramps need to be used to handle the overload, a time-consuming operation. This is when I invite you to relax, accept this serendipitous turn of events and say, like true islanders, “Not to worry, we’re on island time.”
An important benefit of ferry travel is the ample time it allows to chitchat with friends. That’s one good reason why we islanders are so close-knit and supportive of each other. At the same time, we have the opportunity to be philosophical and ponder the meaning of life and the world’s many problems facing. Having the time for this kind introspection combined with numerous close friendships makes for a satisfying island life.
Good looking and young, Chris Hall and Stef Lowey should be chilling with friends and frequenting bars and clubs. Instead, the couple recently completed living for one entire year without purchasing a single morsel of food. Their entire diet — 100% of it — was obtained by growing their garden, raising chickens and other animals, and foraging from the land and sea. They have set a new standard for foraging and culinary self-sufficiency.
I was amazed at, and jealous of, the quality of the meals they concoct. They regularly consume salmon, oysters, prawns and crab caught from the adjacent sea. Chickens, turkeys, ducks and quail provide not only eggs but also protein. They keep four pigs at a nearby farm. A purple hive houses bees, whose pollination has greatly improved their planted crops. “And the honey is a great sweetener,” adds Chris.
obtain spending money – they don’t need much with their lifestyle – with Stef giving massages and Chris driving a water taxi to nearby Gulf Islands. Their first year ended on August 2, but Chris and Stef plan to continue living off the land, with one small adjustment. In future, they will purchase small quantities of coffee and wheat, two items they cannot grow.
The couple’s bold move has raised self-sufficiency to a new level, reducing the 100-mile diet to a few tens of metres.
being transported back to pioneer days. Apples arrived in boxes and containers, some so heavy they could barely be carried. Under a blue sky on October 31, people — all wearing covid masks — took turns manually cranking the press to make apple juice pour out the bottom. Others peeled and cut apples, which were cooked to make sauce and then placed in jars and processed in a pressure cooker. Others used a rotating device to slice apples and then placed the thin, round apple pieces in a dehydrator. This was the inaugural “Let No Apple be Wasted” apple preservation workshop at the Pender Island Community Hall.
What better place to visit in the middle of a pandemic than Saturna Island? It is like an isle forgotten and with only 370 inhabitants it’s easy to self-isolate. Ferry access is infrequent and many conveniences like banks and Starbucks are completely missing. I explored this island-onto-itself on a sunny summer day on my trusty 49-cc scooter.
um — looked over the quintessential Salish Sea with tidal waters churning over Boiling Reef, attracting endless wildlife from sea lions and seals to humpback and orca whales to a myriad of birds. A bald eagle perched high on the weather station beside the new lighthouse, its head slowly swiveling back and forth, patiently watching. The shoreline is a dreamscape of honeycombs and alien, yet beautiful, shapes for erosion has carved the most unusual rock sculptures.
stands for Saturna Island Marine Research & Education Society, uses a small network of underwater hydrophones to monitor the sounds of passing whales. It also hosts a series of popular sea talks given by experts on marine science and ecology.
Thompson Park with a disc golf course.
fair, dunk tank and contests for children and adults, is a true community effort with virtually every person on the island contributing.
I’m fighting the Covid blues by exploring each of the southern Gulf Islands on a 49-cc scooter. Last week, I puttered around Galiano Island, reveling in empty roads, great ocean vistas, friendly locals and the amazing natural beauty of this long, narrow isle, all under a blue, sunny sky. After gassing up (only $2.75!!!), I bumped over an unpaved road to Bluffs Park, which offers outstanding views over Active Pass and numerous islands gracing the Salish Sea. Andrew Simon, organizer of Biodiversity Galiano, showed me some three-ranked knob moss, whose only Canadian locale is here on this bluff.
Next, I passed the highly regarded Pilgrimme Restaurant (open for takeout and dine-in) and arrived at Montague Harbour, one of the most popular — and prettiest — boating spots in the province. I lazed and caught a few rays while watching sailboats dancing on the waves, kayaks paddling past and a lone SUP silhouetted against distant blue ranges.
Conservancy runs numerous teaching programs that demonstrate the vast biodiversity of the island on a stunning site with old growth forest, hiking trails, glorious ocean front and much more.
Arriving at the north end of Galiano, I was told the residents are quite different in character from those at the other end. Isolation is part of the charm, for although the north has its own community hall and fire department, there are no shops nor a gas station.
On the long putt-putt back to the south end, I stopped at Lovers Leap, where a musician played his guitar while enjoying the hot day, vast blue sky and the high view across to Salt Spring Island.
ferry, sad to be leaving this treasure of an island.