Shoreline Impressionism

Abstract of forest along the shoreline reflected in the water

Liquid Forest (click to enlarge)

At anchor one quiet evening a couple of summers ago, I noticed how the trees along the shoreline were reflected in the water beside our boat. Although daylight had all but disappeared, I could still see a surprising richness of colour and visible movement of light in the water – reminiscent of an Impressionist painting.

I took this photo, which I call “Liquid Forest”, in Shoal Harbour in the Broughton Archipelago. But if you take time to look closely, you could probably find a similar “painting” in a great many other quiet anchorages all along the coast.

“Liquid Forest” is on display right now at Nanaimo’s Port Theatre, as part of a group show by the Gabriola Photography Club. The show runs until mid-September, so if you’re in downtown Nanaimo, I hope you’ll stop by to have a look at what our talented Island photographers have been up to.

Classic in Clinker

Clinkerbuilt wooden sailing dinghy

Trusty Companion (click to enlarge)

Earlier this year, my eye was drawn by the classic lines of this clinker-built sailing dinghy, built by Barefoot Wooden Boats here on Gabriola Island.

At the time I took the photo, the boat seemed ready for some sprucing up – not surprising since it’s exposed to the elements day in, day out, year round at its dock in Silva Bay. Nevertheless I could see it was a beautiful, sturdy little vessel, holding up well. Since then it’s had a bit of TLC, and with its spiffy new paint, it’s now looking great.

I don’t know if the boat has a name, but I call the photo “Trusty Companion” – for who could not enjoy spending quality time with a reliable craft like this? And unlike the modern inflatable dinghy and aluminum skiff with which it shares the dock, I’m betting it’s a dream to row.

Old wooden vessels like “Trusty” carry me back in time to the very first boat my parents owned, the one which began my love affair with the sea: a clinker-built double-ender called Gwynda. Here’s a photo of that boat (the only existing photo I know of – obviously in sad shape), taken off Sidney circa 1957:

Old clinkerbuilt motor boat

Our first boat: Gwynda, circa 1957 (click to enlarge)

You’ll note the royal ensign – this was some years before Canada adopted the maple leaf flag. That’s my dad standing proudly on the aft deck, and my mom is inside, at the helm. I’m probably aboard too, but too small to appear in the photo. It makes me chuckle to see that our dinghy (also clinker-built) was almost half the length of our boat.

“Trusty Companion” is one of 30+ mounted prints I have on display this summer at the Silva Bay Restaurant & Pub on Gabriola Island. Entitled “Inspired by the Coast”, my show runs until September 7. If you’re Gabriola, I hope you’ll stop by to have a look (and enjoy a great meal while you’re there).

Amphibian Explorations

Pacific tree frogs are showing up all over our yard these days, in varying sizes and often where you least expect them. A few days ago one hopped out of a lettuce I was cutting, landing first on the toaster, then the butter dish while I tried my best to catch it. (Alas, no photos of that!)

In a less extreme example, the other morning we were sipping our coffee on the deck when a frog suddenly appeared, heading straight towards my flip-flop-shod toes.

To cross our large deck must be a big journey for such a small animal, especially when there are potentially dangerous “giants” to contend with. As the frog neared my foot, it seemed to grow less decisive. I grabbed my camera, and I imagined its internal monologue as it went about its explorations.

Click on the first photo to enlarge & begin the slideshow – the images really do look much better that way, and the captions will be easier to read. (Note, if you’re reading this post in your email rather than on the web, the slideshow won’t work.)

Time for a Weather Eye

View of Georgia Strait and lighthouse, with arbutus tree in foreground

Watch on the Strait (click to enlarge)

The past week has brought plenty of sunshine along with the strong and steady northwest winds that generally predominate here in early July. Right now the seas are nowhere near as calm as they were on the spring day when I took this photo of Entrance Island lighthouse and the Strait of Georgia (taken from Orlebar Point on Gabriola Island).

Those relentless northwest winds can wreak havoc with boaters’ plans to cross the Strait and they inevitably slow any northward progress. So it’s just as well we’re not going north this year and instead, will be taking our little boating holiday very close to home, in the Gulf Islands. (Besides, I hear that “staycations” are all the rage right now!)

Nonetheless, even for a short boating trip, there’s a lot to do before we can leave and begin the process of regaining our sea legs. Once we set off it will be essential to keep a keen weather eye at all times, so we’ll be paying close attention to the daily weather reports on our VHF radio – including the reports from the hard-working and dedicated lighthouse keepers at Entrance Island.

“Watch on the Strait” is one of the 34 mounted prints in my “Inspired by the Coast” photography show, on now and through the summer at the Silva Bay Restaurant & Pub on Gabriola Island. If you are on Gabriola I hope you’ll check it out. Open every day, and the food is excellent.

A Tad Busy in the Pond

tadpole

Tadpole in the Pond (click to enlarge)

With all of humanity’s assaults on life these days, amphibians are having an especially challenging time. So it’s a relief to see a healthy crop of tadpoles in our pond again this year.

I’m not sure if the one in the photo above is destined to become a Red-legged frog or a Pacific Tree frog (AKA Pacific Chorus frog), as our pond supports both and I’m no amphibian expert. Here are a couple of examples of the two species – you can decide which of the two adults our little tadpole most resembles:

frog

Red-legged frog (on Canada’s Species at Risk list)

frog on a barrrel

Pacific Tree frog

Either way, I’m delighted to see the tadpoles thriving (or at least, the ones that didn’t go down the throat of the duck that visited this morning).

It’s also gratifying to have rain today, as the water level in the pond has been dropping rapidly. Early summer is a race against time for the young amphibians, as they work at growing the legs and lungs they need in order to leave their watery world and fan out to our garden and the surrounding forest. A few times in the past we’ve resorted to “tadpole rescue”, catching the little guys in buckets and carrying them down to the lower pond or creek where there was a bit more water to be found. This year I’m hopeful that no intervention will be needed.

If you’re on Gabriola Island this summer, I hope you’ll check out my photography show, “Inspired by the Coast”, at the Silva Bay Restaurant & Pub. Open every day – and the food is excellent!

Windswept on the Edge of the Strait

Trees on a small island, bent over by the wind

Windswept (click to enlarge)

The Strait of Georgia is a windy stretch of water, as you can see by the angle of these trees even on a calm day. Their home is an exposed little islet in the Flat Tops, an island chain just south of Gabriola Island, on the western edge of the Strait

The Strait – or “the Gulf”, as mariners have traditionally called it – is not a body of water to take lightly. It’s about 135 miles long and at its widest, close to 20 miles across, and its alignment matches the prevailing winds, which blow from the southeast in winter and northwest in summer. That means there’s a very long fetch for those winds to build up and plenty of open space for steep waves to develop. If you have to “cross the Gulf”, you need to keep a close weather eye and choose your timing wisely.

Nevertheless, there are many lovely days throughout the year when it’s calm enough to get out on the water and enjoy little gems like this nameless islet. We’ve paddled our kayaks there and back many times over the years, in all seasons, and when I look through those leaning trees I always enjoy the view of the Strait and the BC mainland.

This image is one the 34 mounted prints of the west coast that I have on display right now at the Silva Bay Restaurant & Pub on Gabriola Island. Called “Inspired by the Coast”, the show will continue through September, so if you’re in the area I hope you’ll drop by to have a look – and you can also enjoy a great meal while you’re there.

Between my show, the demands of planting and tending our food garden, work projects and various other commitments, I’ve not had time lately for blogging. But I have been posting some photos to my Flickr page, so if you haven’t been there lately I hope you can take time for a visit.  

Of Rhubarb and Time Travel

Rhubarb in a colander

Spring Harvest (click to enlarge)

Marcel Proust found his time machine in that little sponge cake called a Madeleine. For me, time travel comes from a nibble of fresh, uncooked rhubarb.

Steamed rhubarb is nice, especially with yogurt, and I adore rhubarb crumble. But neither holds the power of rhubarb eaten raw: one tiny bite, and I’m instantly transported to the back porch of our old house on Musgrave Avenue. There I sit, a stick of fresh rhubarb in one hand, and in the other, a small cup of white sugar for dipping the rhubarb. Ah, bliss!

Of course, with what we now know about the toxic nature of sugar, giving a three year-old this snack might be considered more like child abuse than kindliness today. But heck, it was the 1950s and sugar ruled.

Nowadays the rhubarb time machine works perfectly for me sans sugar – a nibble of rhubarb au naturel is all that’s required to fuel the journey. I will admit, however, to using honey and brown sugar when I make a rhubarb crumble.

If you are on Gabriola Island from now through September, I hope you’ll visit the Silva Bay Restaurant & Pub to enjoy a great meal and to check out my “Inspired by the Coast” show. Over 30 of my marine and coastal prints are on display. 

Celebrating Tenacity

Apple blossoms

The surprise that awaited me (click to enlarge)

A few months ago a heavy, wet snowfall caused a remarkable amount of damage to many of the trees and shrubs here where we live. Trails we’ve developed over the years were obliterated as the weight of the melting snow crushed salal, oceanspray and other brush, uprooted small firs, alder and cedars, and brought down a blizzard of forest litter.

Among the worst-hit victims was an apple tree on the edge of our neighbour’s old orchard. One of its large branches had hung over the low wire fence that separates our properties, and with the owner’s blessing, we had harvested a tasty, much cherished bounty of apples over the years – as had the local deer, when the apples we couldn’t reach eventually dropped off each fall.

Imagine the sadness I felt when I saw the apple tree after the snowfall –  its broken trunk jagged and twisted, its heavy canopy spread across the ground, as you can see in this photo (click to enlarge).

Apple tree with badly broken trunk

That’s why I felt such great delight the other evening, when I finally found time to walk down to the orchard – and to my surprise, saw blossoms (top photo) where I’d expected nothing but decaying branches. I could hardly believe my eyes: out of this broken and twisted trunk, the canopy was leafed out and in full bloom.

How long this broken, tenacious old tree will survive, I don’t know. It’s now growing sideways rather than up, so another winter snowfall could be the final blow. But in the meantime, we have cause to celebrate: it’s alive, and there’s even hope of apples this year.