We took a quick trip to Victoria last weekend, and for the first time in a long cold spell, it felt like Spring. The wind was gusting, but we found a sheltered spot outside a coffee shop, and it was very pleasant to be sitting in warm sunshine contemplating the late turn in the season.
Spring!
The next morning was grey, with a hint of rain in the air. That hint was misleading, because by the time we were heading back on the Malahat Highway, the rain had turned to snow, and snow was our intermittent companion all the way home.
Spring?!
Monday promised a touch of Spring. Without knowing it, I captured a stunning image of a hummingbird – I think the image below speaks for itself, and certainly shows how attentive I can be to the local wildlife.
Hummingbird – or smudge on lens?
Did Spring stick around, with a slow yet steady increase in temperatures? No. More snow, rain, hail, sleet, and fifteen seconds of sunshine has been the week since Monday morning. Very happy we won’t have to worry about melting Easter eggs this coming weekend…
Spring arrivals
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
And maybe a little blue – the colour, not my mood…
Early morning lake – a little blue
I was sat in my car the other day, enjoying the rain, having timed the top of the hour construction traffic opening to perfection. After waiting for thirty five minutes, I congratulated myself on being early and adjusted expectations accordingly.
Enjoying the rain
At least the views were good, and I found myself thinking about the survival show “Alone” I’ve been watching the last few weeks. As in most things, I’m about seven seasons behind, and knew nothing about the show, so imagine my pleasant surprise when I discovered that the first two seasons (possibly others, I’ve yet to find out) were filmed just up the island! Very exciting, and it added a little extra something to my viewing, being so familiar with the landscapes, if not the challenges, the participants faced.
“Straight ahead, then turn right, paddle a day or so, and after that you’re on your own!”
Not every participant enjoyed the density of the coastal forest they found themselves alone in. I’ve never been truly alone in the forest, or as deliberately lightly (for want of a better word) equipped as they were. I’ve always found the forest to be beautiful, slightly intimidating, but not downright frightening, although it is a dangerous place, as most places can be with or without proper preparation.
Green
Anyway, I was sitting in the car, staring (in a moody yet cinematic way) at the wall of green to my left and wondering how long I could survive alone in that particular forest? The answer? Not long enough to win. I think maybe a week or two, if I avoided injuries, and convinced myself to eat enough fish, crabs, and seaweed to supplement the squashed mouse diet. Even though I’m a confirmed introvert through and through, I could not be by myself for the fifty something days I think the first winner completed.
Fifty something days? No problem! Without beer, you say? Wait a minute…
As the top of the hour came and went, and the traffic didn’t move forward, I began to wonder, peering through the rain soaked windshield, “Is there anybody in the vehicle in front, and the ones behind?” “Am I alone out here?” “Is this the start of an elaborate reality TV show that Mrs PC signed me up for and she forgot to tell me?” “I’m getting hungry – is that a mouse?”
Green and blue
And then the lights on the car in front came on, and it inched forward, the gate having reopened at the same time the door closed on a budding reality TV career. Fifty something + days? Yeah, I could do that…
We find ourselves in the midst of another heatwave, perhaps not as hot as the one earlier this summer, but still pretty warm for this little corner of the PNW.
Pretty
As a soothing balm to counter the sultry heat, I thought I’d post a few pictures from last weekend, when we wandered down Long Beach, and wondered where the promised sunshine might be?
Just over there?
We set out early, aiming to avoid the later in the day crowds, and the beach was quiet. Cool. So was the temperature, and we were happy to have sweaters and a second cup of coffee to take the edge off.
Helpful
Scout enjoyed the wide stretch of sand, running in crazed circles and digging many holes. Yeah, she digs the beach. Cool.
Yup, I’m cool
From our log perch, we saw small flocks of sandpipers working their way along the shore, the sudden flashes of white in banked flight brightening the day. Seeing sandpipers always brightens our day. We think they’re cool.
Brighter? Different day, different location, still cool..
It probably isn’t too cool to keep repeating cool, so I’ll leave it here for this week, a brief post, playing it coo- oh. Oops. Not cool.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A dead seal has provided plenty of nutrition to any number of birds this week.
“When is it my turn?”
We heard a commotion when a gathering of eagles started to make some noise just outside our learning space last Friday. Looking out over the tidal zone, we could see they were doing a dance around the dead seal. Well, not so much a dance, more they were setting the ground rules – or the table? – about who was going to eat first. It seemed the answer to that was whichever eagle could get away with it.
“Nope. I can’t watch you eating that…”
Oddly, the carcass was still there the following Monday. A bit more chewed up, but it hadn’t been dragged off, floated off or disappeared. It seemed anchored, and when the tide was low, eagles flew in, landed nearby, and waddled over to grab a tasty morsel or two. All the while, other eagles were in the vicinity, as well as gulls and a pair of kingfishers. On Tuesday, I saw a kingfisher dive down, snag a chunk and fly away, chased by another kingfisher determined to steal the goods. They flew in and out of the dock pilings, and back and forth over the water, a fine spectacle of chase and evade until they flew out of sight. I don’t know who came out the winner in that game…
Hanging in, and not handing anything over
It was quite some sight watching an eagle balancing on the body as the tide came up. It kept on eating as long as possible, until the seal was virtually submerged. A latecomer observing the scene would have been forgiven for thinking the eagle could walk on water. The eagle didn’t stick around, flying off before it got wet feathers.
“Quick! It’s our turn!”
The children and youth have been fascinated by the whole show, enjoying the comings and goings down by the shore. I missed when a bear came through, but was surprised to hear it didn’t take any interest in the dead seal. I’d assumed it would? Better pickings elsewhere, a well fed bear, or maybe it didn’t fancy taking on the feathered competition…
“Move along, young ones – it’s my turn!”
Anyway, I’ll leave it there for this week. If there are enough leftovers in the next few days, and I manage to get a shot or two, I’ll serve up a small dessert next time. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
In between work locations last Friday, I opted to take my coffee down to the lighthouse and check out the waves.
Wave check
It was a wild and windy day, with the rain blowing in sideways, and I had to shelter under a sturdy tree to steady myself and snap a few pictures before giving up and simply enjoying it all.
A good place
Above, two tough gulls were braving the elements. One swooped down below the rocks and out of sight, and the other seemed to be hanging still in the face of the wind. I think it was testing itself, like a kayaker riding a wave crest and appearing to be fixed in place. What a sight, what a gull!
We did finally get a dry day yesterday, and it was good to step outside and feel some sun on our faces. It was also nice to get home after a walk with Scout and not have to find a towel from our dwindling supply to dry her off. Looking ahead, it seems we’re in for a cold snap – cold for the coast, anyway – so we’ll be hoping for a dusting of snow on the hilltops, and to do some brisk hiking before heading home for a well deserved glass of something good…
Inner Harbour, Outer Harbour, Eagle’s Nest, Whiskey Landing, Whaling Station, Crow’s Nest, Foggy Bean (on a weekend) and home. This is the recipe for a good morning, and it happens to be the route Scout insists on for our first walk of the day. She’s a sensible canine counsellor, leading me in the right direction, and she knows her subject well. The route isn’t the longest in distance, but there are often detours and visits to make along the way. From Scout’s perspective, routine doesn’t mean boring, so we stick with the tried and tested, and she’s right in this.
Leaving the harbours
Scout always checks her p-mail for messages, and ensures she leaves a reply – these are left at particular and precise patches of grass, ground and undergrowth, and she’s pretty happy with her communications.
Canine counsellor!
Recently, we’ve been forgetting to remember there is a grumpy heron hanging out under the Outer Harbour. It reminds us we’ve been a bother by taking off with a series of croaks and squawks, and it never fails to make me jump. Unfortunately, because I’m not so sharp on these early morning walks, I forget the heron is there and we do it all again the next day. My apologies to the harassed heron, and we’ll try to be less intrusive – if we remember.
Grumpy heron
It’s dark now when we set off, so the photos I’ve included this week were mostly taken last month. The sunrises and morning light have been quite beautiful, and we’re missing seeing these delights during the week. The plan is to force ourselves to wake up later on a weekend to catch sun up. The only catch to that is there might be a weekend line up at The Foggy Bean if we arrive later – last Saturday the line was two people, if you include me but not Scout. Life is good when line ups are that short.
Outer Harbour
Should you find yourself in the Foggy line, can I recommend their short Americano? Mrs PC says that’s good, but the cappuccino is even better. Choices, choices. Life is good if your biggest decision is cappuccino vs. Americano, and Scout still has a few dog biscuit treats left to distract her from your almond croissant. Go on, have the croissant, it’s the weekend.
Passing the whaling station
So there you have it – a morning routine as recommended by Scout, and one that will set you up for a good morning and beyond. It never gets old, and presently it rarely stays dry, but it works to keep this OldPlaidCamper more or less in his right mind and moving along.
Near the Eagle’s Nest
Inner Harbour, Outer Harbour, Eagle’s Nest, Whiskey Landing, Whaling Station, Crow’s Nest, Foggy Bean (on a weekend) and home.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A big thank you to Wayne over at Welcome To Tofino Photography for the post title and theme this week. I thought it’s time for a more frivolous than usual piece, particularly as the entire news cycle of late appears devoid of any frivolity – rightly so, but still…
A little while back, Wayne suggested I rate the beers I occasionally (!) mention or include. His idea was to use a rating scale going from one eagle (poor) to five eagles in flight with a fresh salmon (excellent) – I’m not sure if each of the five eagles has to have a salmon, or if it is one salmon underneath a five eagle fly by?
One eagle (in a good way)
In case you’re concerned about the state of my liver, you needn’t be. Although there are quite a number of beer photos posted on here, the reality is I rarely drink more than a bottle or two each week. Honest! Unlike in my youth, I aim for quality over quantity when it comes to a beer. If I have a second, it’s a racing certainty I’ll be asleep not long after.
Location matters – beer tastes good here
I’ll indulge in a little autobeerography here. The most (I can remember) I’ve ever consumed in a single sitting was over a long evening in Dublin, drinking Guinness with my brother. Did I exceed my usual two beers? Yup! In our defence, and according to the old school advertising, Guinness is good for you. I mean, it’s practically a foodstuff isn’t it? More of a meal than a drink. Actually, I was the one drinking Guinness that evening, and my brother was drinking anything but. He doesn’t like Guinness?! I know! Impossible. Bar tenders up and down Grafton Street were bemused… I can confirm his hangover was much much worse than mine. That’s because Guinness is good for you.
Mostly true? (image courtesy Smithsonian.com)
Getting back to Wayne’s ratings, I’d have to say a properly poured pint of Guinness in Dublin – they are built rather than poured – would be close to five eagles and a salmon. Which is as much about the location and the company as it is about the beer. And that’s sometimes the thing about a decent pint – who you’re with and where you are can matter as much as what’s in the glass.
Now, having written that about company and location, nothing but nothing can save Slalom Lager. A different brother and I tried to drink a pint or two of said beverage in a lovely pub somewhere in North Wales a fair few years back. We really really tried our best, but no number of pints could fix that slimy taste. One eagle would be an eagle too far. I’ve hardly had a pint of any lager since.
“Enough of this frivolity!”
Enough of this frivolity. I’ll leave it here this week, with a photograph and recommendation for the following beer: (I’d give it five eagles for sure, but does it get the salmon as well? I don’t know. Maybe some follow up research is needed?)
Recommended!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Last Friday turned into a pretty good Good Friday. Sunshine was promised and eventually made an appearance in the early afternoon. It seemed like a beach day, so that is where we went.
This is where we went
We hadn’t been to Wick Beach in quite a while, and it was a very pleasant stroll we were having when we saw quite a crowd of ravens hopping about a clump of something in the distance. As we approached, the ravens flapped off, and we could see the sizeable remains of – I think – a sea lion. We skirted past swiftly, not wanting to enjoy the aroma any longer than necessary, and to give space back to the ravens.
“Ooh, just a quick peck…”
A little way beyond the body we saw a juvenile eagle sitting on a stump, no doubt waiting for us to move on, and perhaps hoping the ravens would leave a little something.
As we wandered by, two adult bald eagles flew past us towards the remains. We thought it was starting to get rather crowded. If it hadn’t been dead, the sea lion could have become quite irritated with all the attention…
We kept going up the beach, and eventually hunkered down in front of the dunes, slightly elevated on a log and amongst the long grasses. From there, the cadaver commotion was almost out of sight, and we switched our attention to the ocean, looking out for and spotting many spouting whales.
Once we’d finished our coffee, after Scout had demolished a fair chunk of washed up log, and given up digging a deep hole in the sand for me to fall into as I stood, we set off back down the beach. As we drew closer to the corpse, we could see quite a crowd. Three adult bald eagles, two juveniles, and a smattering of ravens were figuring out how the goodies were going to be shared.
“Save some for me – I’m still growing…”
We stuck to the dune side of the beach, not wanting to get involved, and anyway, after coffee and chocolate, we weren’t feeling the need to scavenge. I couldn’t believe Scout wasn’t more interested in the proceedings, but she wasn’t.
The photographs I took were at the outer limits of what my camera and shaky hands could handle, and really none too sharp, but I’ve used them here anyway, in case you’re a fan of partially consumed corpses…
When we got home, I got caught up on the blogs I enjoy, and one of them was a perfect piece to read after our earlier adventure. It made me stop and think about how vulnerable many species are. Living out here, one could (but I’m not) become a bit complacent about the numerous bald eagle sightings we are blessed with. If you have the time, I heartily recommend you head over to read Jet Eliot – you won’t be sorry!
If the weather holds – and it has turned warm and sunny this week – then perhaps we’ll head up Wick once again over the coming weekend, check out the state of the scavenged. I doubt there’ll be much left, maybe not much more than a few picked over and pecked clean bones. That’s life, and death.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
We’ve heard that parts of North America and Europe have been unseasonably cold in the last little while. I’ve also read that Australia has been unseasonably hot, even by their warm summer standards. I’d love to write about how the west coast here has been mild, with a weekend ahead of gentle sunshine, but that wouldn’t be true. If the forecast is correct, we’re due a relatively chilly snap, with a suggestion of snow. I’m rather looking forward to it…
We get out and about whatever the weather, unless it is dangerous to do so, and this almost brave and rugged outdoor approach is, understandably, reflected in my appearance. Why, not so long ago, a delightful young chap I’ve been working with heard it was my birthday, and he asked if I minded looking so old? In fairness, I believe he meant to say rugged, but it isn’t a word in his vocabulary. He then asked if hair loss hurt, and could anything be done about it? After putting my toque back on, I replied, with a quaver that gave the lie away, that I didn’t mind going bald. After all, aren’t bald eagles majestic? He agreed, they are quite something, but they aren’t actually bald.
Majestic
Last weekend ended up being far more overcast than had been predicted, but young dogs need to take rugged humans and run them ragged on long walks. Off we went in search of adventure and a bald eagle or two. As promised in my previous post, I remembered to bring along a camera with a better zoom than the phone, and I’m glad I did. We nimbly leapt down from the trail into a rocky area, and with an easy and let’s say spry spring in our step, moved to a sheltered area to enjoy our coffee and admire a bald eagle perched slightly away and above. Once again, the eagle remained in place for our entire visit, and at one point it tipped it’s head back and sang out when another eagle flew past. What a thrill!
Rugged
The following day was also grey, and the wind had a bit of bite to it. Undeterred, we set off to stretch our legs along a beach to a distant set of rocks where we’d spotted oystercatchers on a previous trip. No oystercatchers this time, but when we clambered (I mean skipped) up the rocks, we were treated to a fine collection of weathered and storm tossed logs. The greyish glow of the light seemed to bring out the shape and texture, and I messed around with taking some monochrome and silver shots.
Silvery
I’m almost tired now, so I’ll leave it here for this week. Perhaps a quick nap, then I’m off out to enjoy our forthcoming little chill, hoping to see some local snow, and also hoping my toque keeps the bald spot warm…
Thanks for reading, have a wonderful weekend, and whatever the weather throws at you, I hope you get to be outdoors!
OldPlaidCamper 