Brushing those winter doldrums away!

 The days have been gray and dreary for a couple of weeks and I do not cope well with that.  But today, the sun tried hard to emerge and pops of blue appeared in the sky.  My back has been bothering me this week so I had called off my usual Friday hike, but nothing, nothing was going to keep me indoors. So swallowing a few pain pills, grabbing my new camera, and leashing up Maggie, we headed to Craig Bay Heritage Park, where we could walk on soft surfaces, find lots of places to sit and rest, and enjoy the ocean view. 

As we headed down the trail, we saw the first signs of spring - masses of snowdrops in bloom.  If snowdrops are blooming, crocuses will soon follow, then daffodils, then tulips......oh, my heart rejoices in the thought of spring flowers and blossoms everywhere. 

As we neared the water, we heard an eagle cry.  There in the trees, high above us, the eagle sat gazing out to sea and telling the world all about it.

Perhaps the eagle was reminding us that it is nearly time for the Brant goose migration - a time when our beaches are closed to dogs for two months to allow the geese to regain their energy and fatten themselves on their long journey from Mexico to Alaska.  The closures don't start for a couple more weeks, but the geese apparently didn't check the local bylaws because there were plenty of them in Craig Bay today.

Maggie and I wandered the shoreline, stopping frequently to take photos. Maggie has a favourite boulder on this beach - it is low at one end, high at the other, so she can easily access it but still be elevated enough to survey her world.  This day, however, someone had made stone piles on the high end, and Maggie was too respectful to knock them over, though she certainly had something to say to them.

What're you doing on MY boulder?

But once she had said her piece, she settled down and enjoyed the view for awhile.

Is someone gonna move these things for me, please?

I guess I can share. 

They're kinda nice.  Very quiet. Pretty, too.  Just like me. 

I persuaded her to walk a bit further, and we investigated sea shells and rocks and interesting bits of roots along the beach.  

This was part of a tree root that had washed ashore.
I liked the swirls and colours in it.

When we stopped for another rest, we were entertained by crows who chattered away as they explored logs for whatever it is crows find in logs.

We moved back from shoreline to trail, and stopped to rest once more on one of the wood Adirondack chairs that have been placed along the edge where one can watch the tide ebb and flow. Maggie sat beside me as I played with camera settings and snapped away at my perfect model.

And soon the sun was dipping down behind the treetops and the air was getting chilly and Maggie's tummy clock was saying "It's dinner time - let's go home!"

And so we did.  

Jack Point / Biggs Park

 With days still short and dark and weather unpredictable, and many trails closed for repairs or impassable, our Friday hikes have been close to home along familiar paths, often in local parks.  This past Friday we did an old favourite - Jack Point/Biggs Park in south Nanaimo, located alongside the Duke Point Ferry terminal. 

The trail is easy (with the exception of a few long steep sets of stairs), and once past a short section that parallels the road, it is peaceful and beautiful.  The rocks along the shoreline have been worn smooth, some hollowed into caves, some - like the one right of centre in this photo - rolled into a large smooth ball as the tides turn it between two harder rock faces:

There are many viewpoints and places to rest, little side trails that lead to benches overlooking the bay or leading down to small rocky coves.  Sometimes the tide blocks access to some rocky outcroppings, other times an agile person can easily explore rocky tidal pools and shallow caves in the cliffs.  The winter daytime tides were high enough to hide some of our usual favourite photography spots, but this little island and the lone tree reflected in the water drew my eye:

The trail was only washed out by storms in one spot, where logs had driven hard into a small cove.  Amazingly, the bridge was still standing and the trail still passable. 

Heading down the point, there are views of downtown Nanaimo, and as one reaches the tip of the point, we see cargo ships waiting to enter the docks to load and unload, as well as big ferries coming and going from Duke Point and small ferries going back and forth to Gabriola Island.  Small float planes also fly overhead and the occasional helicopter too. 

We eat our lunch near the lighthouse at the end of the point, where a cormorant or two always stands guard, self-appointed keepers of the light.

As the waters are churned up by the ferries, seals and sea lions pop up to catch the fish disturbed by the wake.  A raven chatters overhead, his gurgling "krak krak krak" reminding me of a wood block percussion instrument with its hollow-sounding short musical notes that can be heard for up to a mile.  We hear him but can't locate him, but do spot the eagle who is singing soprano - or screeching soprano - in accompaniment. 

The sea mammals, including a pair of  river otters, were entertaining but difficult to capture with the lens - these two were curious about us but not in a position to gain a good focus. 

Heading back mid afternoon, the winter sun decided to make an appearance low in the sky through the clouds, lighting up the bay and casting an eerie glow.  

Peaceful, calming, spiritually refreshing - nature always knows how to calm the soul and wash away the winter blahs. 

Fog meets Sun, and a bit of rain.

 Maggie and I meandered through the community park towards the beach, cloaked in thick fog.  By the time we reached the beach, the sun was fighting for dominion, and it was quite the battle. During the couple of hours we were down there, we saw fog roll in and recede many times, we saw treetops appear and disappear, blue skies streaked with dark and light clouds, fine mist and a few sprinkles of rain and all shades of light and dark. It made for a lovely adventure and some interesting photos. 

Treetops emerging from fog

Sun battles dark clouds and fog

Sun takes the lead

Maggie watching the weather battle.  Or not. 

Fog rolling in again

A little rain and wind to spice things up

Sun and fog and damp sidewalk
make for a silhouetted walker.

Spring will be here soon.  It will.  It will. Cheer on the sun!

The Beach in Winter

 The snow has gone, and with it the frigid temperatures. But it is still winter - a west coast winter of gloomy dark days, drizzling rain, and fog.  I've never liked this time of year - the gloom feels as oppressive in winter as heat and humidity do in summer.  Anyone know of a place with just two seasons - spring and fall? That would be my Utopia. 

But at least gloom and drizzle and fog don't stop us from getting outside, and so Maggie and I spent a couple of hours on the beach today.  In winter, the low daytime tides are still high, and the high tides even higher.  The only really low tides seem to occur in the wee small hours.  And so there's not lots of sand to roam, nor herons fishing nor eagles feeding.  Maggie, however, doesn't much care - to her, the beach in winter is about logs, and ducks, and time with her mama. And as usual, she likes to stop and pose for the camera.

We took some time to watch the ducks, first those paddling around solo, grazing as they go:

And then those illustrating the cliché "getting your ducks in a row":

While I played with the camera, Maggie settled beside me to keep watch on the people and dogs wandering the boardwalk.  

They better stay up there - this is mah beach!

And the crows - gotta make sure none of those crows sneak up on us.  You know what a whole lot of crows are called, don't you? A murder of crows!  Maggie has feelings about that! Fortunately, this crow was more interested in whatever tidbit they had found than in murdering us.  

But soon the crow's friends had all gathered in the tree above, 

And Maggie decided it was time to move on. 

Don't ya think we shoulds leave now, Mama?

You know, just in case. 

What WAS that colourful blob?

Yesterday I posted a teaser of 'something' we encountered on our hike around Neck Point Park, Nanaimo.  It was.....wait....before I tell you what it was, let me tell you about the first part of our hike, the part before the encounter. 

We saw, of course, beautiful scenery - rugged coast land with wee little islands.  

The hike - or walk, as some would prefer to call it - is an easy one with the exception of numerous short flights of stairs to get you over environmentally sensitive areas or up to observation platforms.  It follows a series of coves and beaches, interesting land formations, and lots of seabirds and mammals.  We nearly always see seals and sometimes sea lions here, as well as a large flock of cormorants - which I learned today is called a "gulp" of cormorants:

We walked on further, enjoying more views.  At one viewpoint we ate our lunch to the song of the eagles - two of them perched in a tree right over our heads.  Unfortunately, the foliage was too thick for a photo, but the called and argued and quibbled and quarreled all the way through the meal.  It seems like the larger one (most often a female) was trying to persuade the smaller one to move on to another restaurant as she kept flying away and coming back, each time calling more forcefully than before.  Who knows, maybe it was parent and child.  "If you don't come right now, there's no dinner for you!" 

We spent some time watching some colourful harlequin ducks who refused to have their photo taken, and then took a cross trail into the forest and did a couple of loops past a busy little squirrel, and along a lengthy gnome house trail (complete with doors that sometimes opened to reveal little toys).

We watched a young deer nibble some leaves and bound gracefully over fall logs.

And then emerged at the third, or maybe fourth beach.  Another beautiful view, and on a memorial bench was a large fresh bouquet of roses honouring the woman who had died far too soon.  

Heading back towards the parking lot, we doubled back from forest to shoreline.  As we came over a hill and around a bend, we saw a most peculiar sight.  First it was one huge clear something floating low over the land and skimming across the top of the water. Then another. Then another.  

You can't fault us for being confused.  Just that morning, the local news had reported a woman in nearby Nanoose thought she had seen an iceberg on the Salish Sea that separates us from the mainland.  Photos suggested that was the case.  Science confirmed it was not - it was a very unusual mirage that was actually a reflection of a mountain over 200 km away. You can read about it here: https://nanaimonewsnow.com/2022/01/12/it-was-so-convincing-so-real-floating-salish-sea-iceberg-stumps-nanoose-photographer/

But back to my story:  soon we were seeing floating coloured orbs as well - not little ones like a child's bubble wand, but huge ones - some over 10 feet long and 3-4 feet high. 

But yes, our strange encounter was bubbles, for soon we saw their origin.  A woman on the shore, with two long sticks joined by cotton rope, a bucket of soapy mixture at her feet, dipped and waved and danced with the wands, creating artistic creations that floated in the air and drifted across the waters as far as the eye could see. 

The bubbles were mesmerizing.  We saw dogs and whales and snakes and birds in translucent colours of the rainbow, shape shifters of the most harmless kind. 

Recognize this one? It's the one I used in the 'teaser' yesterday.

And it shape-shifted into a dog jumping out from behind a log!

One nearby photographer with one of those long, long lenses that professionals use estimated that the line of bubbles extended almost one kilometer out.  At times we could count 20 or 30 giant bubbles all in a row heading to the mainland! 

They were amazing, they were fun, they impelled everyone to stop and watch and none of us wanted to leave.  The bubbles brought out the inner child in all of us as we oohed and ahh'd over the many shapes and colours that formed and re-formed. 

The bubbles even brought out the inner pup in the sea lions - two of them hung around the whole time, popping their heads up continuously to the watch the show. I only had my little camera with me so didn't get a good sea lion shot, but you can see the dark head of one of them in this one: 

And that was part of the bubble-maker's reason for being there that day. As she told me when I thanked her for bringing joy to an otherwise overcast and foggy day, "Always make time to let your inner child out to play." 

Sally, my hiking buddy, got the eco-friendly recipe from her as well as the instructions for making the wands.  Once she emails it to me, I'll add it to the blog.  We plan to take the components on our next camping trip.  And I might even practice here at home or on my local beach first. 

Now, what do YOU do to release your inner child?