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.