I finally succumbed to Covid. For a couple of days I complained about a stuffed up nose. I felt uncharacteristically tired as I trailed across the hellishly hot parking lot of our local shopping centre. Was it some extreme hay fever brought on by the lush foliage of summer? Was I shamefully out of shape, diabetic, simply old? My three beloved grandchildren came to sleep over as they often do. I sent them home early ( unheard of!) as I was dog tired from not having slept well the night before. As soon as they left I fell asleep and awoke completely disoriented with a full on fever. A friend called. “ you sound like you have Covid.”, he said.
Whaat? Covid? Four times vaccinated, a veteran of dorm sleeping last fall on the Camino Frances….I couldn’t have Covid! I dug out a box of rapid tests and, sure enough … a positive result. Just goes to show you shouldn’t let your guard down. Who knows how or when I got it but the first 36 hours knocked me off my feet and into my bed where I slept in increments of three hours. Each time I woke up wondering if it was day or night. I was awoken by vivid dreams of my mother demanding that I fly immediately to British Colombia ( she’s been dead for ten years) or a totally convincing fire alarm that was only ringing in my dream. I read. I scrolled Facebook. I watched the start of ten lousy Netflix movies ( recommendations please) and today, the third day I feel better. So far none of my family show any signs of illness thank goodness.
My only annoyance is that I must self isolate. Tomorrow I will find out for how long. In the meantime I sit on my little balcony and read and hatch nefarious plans for “ when I am better”
Elizabeth says if you wait for the sun around here, you’ll never go out. Yes, the rain forest isn’t just the Amazon. It’s the cool green giant trees reaching up, falling, rotting, feeding other life. The mosses and lichens play out their seasons as the cool soft rain and the sea winds keep everything slow cooking.
I walked about ten kilometres in the rain, something I would never have done in the noisy city. The rain didn’t seem like an enemy, just part of the day.
Today we took two ferries to get to Hornby Island. There are many small islands off Vancouver Island and we went to explore Tribune Bay and the forest and bluffs nearby. The ferries are small – one is a cable ferry that is pulled across the channel to Denham Island. We tried to do this expedition on the Victoria Day weekend but it was too busy to get a spot on the second ferry. A cloudy mid-week day allowed us to complete the second jump and enjoy quiet time in the deep green woods and along the pristine bay.
The shells and wildflowers were beautiful and perhaps best of all – there were hardly any other people. Am I turning into a misanthrope? No, but sometimes quiet and space are the great treasures of our age.
There were other critters to greet like this deer, a snake and some sea eagles. A couple of ponies were enjoying their trot along the beach too.
Some of the flowers were unknown to me. It is a treat to come across a species that is mysterious in its special allure. The trees are wonderful too – all sorts of conifers. This one let out a cloud of pollen, like smoke when shaken. Old favorites like pink roses just coming into their own and cammomile daisies mixed in with colored grasses. “Like a Monet landscape” said Elizabeth. I am a lucky woman.
We had a wonderful day today walking in fern and tall tree forests down to the shore where we sighted eight bald eagles. How lovely it was in the cool woods walking down a steep trail to the rocky shore. Out on the channel between the Island and the mainland huge container ships passed each other. They were so far away that at one point it looked as if they would touch noses but, of course they simply glided on by. These wonderful birds flew close above our heads to land in their high nests in shoreline trees.
When we drove into town after our walk we grabbed a coffee at the square next to the harbour and found another eagle perched on one of the masts.
We caught sight of the charter plane coming in from Vancouver. What a lovely day! Thanks to my daughter for such a beautiful excursion.
She stands at the gate of my daughter’s property on Vancouver Island. She is old and the “tree guy” says she’s on her way out. The white branch fell off during a winter storm.
She has lots of places where bark isn’t growing and the white inner core of her boughs can be seen. But she’s opening up new leaves and keeps on doing her “ tree” thing. At her wide base flowers and moss are well established. The daffodils that were blooming at her roots are over but she’s got plenty of forget-me-nots and sturdy thistles to keep her company.
I sat out in the sun, tempered by a brisk wind this afternoon. I was reading a wonderful book but finally, feeling rather chilly and curious about a raven visiting my tree I went in.
The raven was making a strange call, like a couple of notes on a flute. It was a far cry from Poe’s croak, but my daughter assured me it was his Spring call. Sure enough, he flew off out of the newly green branches of my companion towards the sea. That tree has such spirit. Let her hold on another decade or so.
Not often I glimpse a view of the Rockies when out for my walk. My daughter’s home on Vancouver Island offers this treat. I walk down beside the swift-flowing Oyster river until it joins the Straight of Georgia. It was quite muddy in spots as it rained heavily in the night but the high winds forecast did not appear.
Some of the path runs very close to the river and I’ve always been leery of the footing there. Turns out my instinct was right as a whole section had sheared off complete with some trees.
The little leaf casings are sticky. The still folded leaves are as soft and smooth as velvet. The grass is green thanks to recent rain but the rushes beside the pond are still last-year’s pale straw. Only they remember the first hard frosts of last fall, the dark clear nights when only the stars circled overhead. The winter was long, cloudy and icy underfoot.
But all the life that was suspended, seemingly gone forever is coming out into the daylight.
Unbelievable as it seems I saw a red butterfly in a quiet section of the woods over a week ago. A week ago it was dark and cold at night. Sometimes it seemed to me that we were all under some winter spell and that we would never feel warm or complain that it was “ too hot.” But it is the coming out party for all nature… and here is the master of ceremonies.
My kind grandchildren helped me make these for yet another year. Fragile and beautiful yet resilient and precious like their creators. How lucky I am that they still like to indulge me and come to my house to color these symbols of new life, of Spring and hope. Later this evening my whole family who live in Montreal will come and have a festive meal with my. My daughter who is on Vancouver Island will not be here but in a couple of weeks I will go to visit her. I will bring her seeds for her garden – more symbols of growth and new life.
These pictures are from today’s brief Easter office ( only an hour!) From up in the choir last night I looked down and saw the darkened church slowly illuminated as the darkness of the tomb was overcome with shared flickering candles.How wonderful it is to sing the powerful Easter canon and later the anthem “ Christ is Risen” in many different languages – we even have a sheet in Innu although I don’t remember ever singing it. English, French, Greek, Russian, Romanian, Spanish, Bulgarian…,
I am very lucky to be healthy enough to go to many services to sing, to exchange greetings, to buy and cook food for my family. Every day is Pascha. We just have to remember
He was a little scary I admit as he silently performed his acrobatics on the bars of the almost … but not quite empty Metro cars. He was carrying a backpack( not shown in his posed picture here) which at one point threw him off balance. He landed in a bit of a heap and then spent some frantic time searching for his cell phone which had, it seems, fallen out during a particularly complicated manoeuvre. However a kind fellow passenger found it and gave it to him just in time for him to get off with me at the terminus. He happily consented to this picture and we both went on our ways.
Look totally flat from the top? Yesterday I finally got going and pumped up this hill a couple of times. It is a toboggan hill steep enough to require a couple of visits from the ambulance at least once every winter as teens whizz down and smash into each other.
It feels so good to get out and see the city and far off the river spread our over the brown winter-dead grass. For sure we will have snow again before we are done but it did feel springy.
This is just the start of preparing for the Portugese Camino in September. I think I may need a new pair of shoes but that’s for later. The sun is stronger, the days longer and hey…. Is that hope I see on the horizon?