When did it happen that I began wishing for rain in the summer? I've gone from shameless sun-worshipper to dedicated shade-seeker. We're in the midst of a heat wave here on southern Vancouver Island and I'm thinking fondly of October. Heck, I'd even trade in today's 5:10 am sunrise and 9:18 pm sunset for the dark days of winter in order to have more comfortable weather. Hopefully this heat passes quickly and mildly, and in the meantime I'll content myself with walks in the coolness of evening when the light is at its most beautiful.
This evening I carried the baby in my arms down the hill to the beach. The ocean shimmered smokey blue and silver under brooding clouds. We saw a Northern Flicker, robins and swallows, and two baby cottontails. Baby took this all in with his bright, curious eyes and sucked on my arm a bit. These are quiet days (if you don't count the standard crying). We are still settling in to our new rural home and to life with a charming dependant.
Spring rushed by and summer has been upon us already.
Or so it seems. I'm not used to sandals in April.
Some things that have brightened my week: a fish jumping / a seal surfacing / the morning sun bright on the water / the breakfast sandwich at dak / coffee (always) / three herons - flying, standing, stealthing
Saturday: good family and good food, brunch and gelato in the sun, time together. A walk around Durrance Lake: lizards / columbine / wild geranium / people fishing / shining water / green trees / apple blossoms / shade under the trees / moss and lichen / black and white moth / blue butterflies / huckleberry / ferns unfurling fiddleheads / rock ferns / trilliums in flower / vanilla leaf or deerfoot / blue sky overhead / praying for rain
Sunday up-island at the farm: good friends and good food, picnic in the sun-shade grass, deviled eggs, exploring expeditions in creekbeds and over fields, skirting nettle. wisps of cloud in plumes - feathers - mares' tails in hot blue sky / tall trees - bare dry limbs / chickens / salmonberry / currant / elder / green grass and ladybugs / red-breasted sapsucker / reddish snails in the dry creek bed / giant old trees - ancient fir - rough cork bark peeling
(when short on time, lists.) ps. there are saffron clusters of ladybug eggs spangling the white bark of our birch tree - I discovered them yesterday
If I look back on this post a year from now, here is what I want to remember: a fire rainbow in the windswept mare's tails clouds above the city at lunchtime; excellent coffee on many a morning boosting morale; picking and eating small precious handfuls of the summer's first blackberries; swimming, arms reaching, body skimming through the liquid landscape of the lake; homemade pizza; finally giving myself a much-needed footrub; evening walks to the tune of peaceful and yolky sunsets.