The Foggy Foggy Dew

When I was a bachelor, I liv'd all alone

I worked at the weaver's trade

And the only, only thing that I ever did wrong

Was to woo a fair young maid.

I wooed her in the wintertime

And in the summer, too

And the only, only thing that I did that was wrong

Was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

(Old English folk song, circa 1815)

Now I'm no fair young maid for sure, but there isn't a bachelor on earth who could keep me from the foggy, foggy dew.  Those  foggy morning walks with Shiloh are some of my favourites - like walking while cocooned in a cotton puff, noises muffled, peaceful solitude, beautiful photo ops as the rising sun tries its hardest to shine through the mists.  I can stand on the shore gazing through my camera's lens for hours.  As much as I love crisp sunny mornings, I think I love the foggy ones even more.  These shots are from this morning's walk:

7:45  AM

8:15 AM

8:30 AM

Barrow's Goldeneye

8:45 AM

Fog lifting on Maple Mountain

"What's she babbling on about?"
"I dunno - just ignore her! "

Spring is in the air!

The day dawned warm and sunny with a light breeze - a perfect January day.  Snowdrops and crocuses are popping up, buds are forming on my early lilac, and the soft grey of pussywillows tells us spring can't be far away. The dogs know it is a good day for a walk.

Mama, let's go out!

I scout out the terrain with Mitzi.  She wasn't about to stop for photos - she is a Dog on a Mission when we head to the beach.  I had just enough time to snap this shot of the pussywillows at the top of Spinnaker Steps:

Pussywillows in January

Then down we go and a brisk Mitzi-march along the seawalk.

Mama Jean, you're so slow!

Morning walk in Crofton

Just enough time to snap a few of the birds,

before heading back up to the house.  Shiloh's turn.  Shiloh likes a more leisurely pace, with time to investigate everything.

Hmmm what's this?  Who has been here?
Is anyone hiding under there?

Where now?

Let's go down here
and say hi to the seagulls!

This next shot was accidental as I was trying to set up for a bird shot.  But I laughed when I saw it.  Several blogs I follow are written by horsewomen. Many of their shots are taken from the back of a horse (or in one case a burro), and the equine's ears figure prominantly at the bottom of each photo.  So, for  all those equine bloggers out there, here is the canine version of your shots:

Ride 'em cowgirl!

Those ears figure prominently in this post, because this is what Shiloh was hearing:

Sea lion chorus line
on the shoal islands.

And it was such a beautiful day, and I still had a couple of hours to spare before bookclub, so I called Bonnie and Keaghan to join Eddie and me at Swallowfield.  I took the big camera this time, hoping for some shots of the many eagles that have been hanging around that area.  We didn't see any eagles, but I had fun with the camera anyway.

Happy Eddie

Happy Happy running
slightly-out-of-focus Eddie

Keaghan checks the fields on the estuary

Eddie takes a break

Keaghan gets the zoomies -
right towards the camera!

Zoom!

Zoomied out

Let's see if mom's got any treats. 

 As we rested above the estuary before returning home, I captured some shots of Keaghan that I think Bonnie is gonna love:

Keaghan (1)
(c) 2014 Jean Ballard

Keaghan (2)
(c) 2014 Jean Ballard

And my favourite shot of the day:

Keaghan (3)
(c) 2014 Jean Ballard

And that's just another great day on the island.

Frosty Morning at Swallowfield

Eddie, above the estuary at the
south end of Swallowfield
(c) Jean Ballard 2013

The temperature has dropped and there is a hard frost on the ground even midmorning.  But the sun is shining, the air is crisp, and to me the weather is perfect for a walk with the dogs.  I take Eddie, who can run off leash, and our guest dog Chelsea on a long line, and head to Swallowfield.  It is one of my favourite places to go in the fall - sunlight reflecting on pools of water, solitude, ocean vistas across the estuary, tall bare trees and then open grasslands,  a wide, level trail.

Eddie and Chelsea on leaf-covered trail

Along the trail at Swallowfield

Estuary, south end.

I usually head north at the t- intersection in the path, to the Chemainus River and across the estuary. Today I headed south instead, past the foundations of an old homestead, gazing at the paradox of the smoke and steam from the pulp mill and the sillhouette of the mill stacks against the natural beauty of this protected waterfowl landscape.

Crofton Pulp Mill in distance

Bright red berries attract many small birds, while overhead an eagle flies.  Suddenly I spot a bird I don't recognize - the size of a crow yet rounder, with distinctive bars on the breast.  I have only my little camera, so can't zoom in quite close enough.  A grouse perhaps?  Yet it doesn't seem quite right.  It is only after I upload the photos that I notice a second bird of the same species to the right of the photo.  Can you see them both in this first frame?

Two birds in the bush

Bird one
from centre of  above photo

Bird two,
from right side of first photo

Eddie, Chelsea and I continue on our way, crunching the ice over the puddles as we go.  This one, however, remained intact - a maple leaf in whirls of frozen water:

Frozen Canada
(c) Jean Ballard 2013

 A few more photos before we head home:

Chelsea Dawn on the estuary

Bullrushes on a frosty fall day

Bare trees and blue skies

Two hours of walking and we didn't meet a soul.  All within 15 minutes of home. How lucky I am to live here.

Morning Zen

Morning Zen
(c) Jean Ballard 2013

For the past several days I have been on the mainland, spending time with family and friends.  I hardly took any photos, and those I did were rather ho-hum.  I wanted to capture fields of pumpkins with mist rising above them - but most of the time there was nothing but heavy fog and pollution, and the only pumpkin field I saw had nothing but broken pumpkin chunks on it, ready to be turned under with the next turn of the plow.

And then I came home.  Back to my island.  Back to a place where a walk in the morning, even in the fog, is a zen experience.  Simple.  Silent.  Serene.   The rest of this blog needs no words:

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013

(c) Jean Ballard 2013