Sounds like a prison sentence, but it wasn’t confining, far from it. A short piece this week, about a short walk taken a short distance from home.
We’ve had fluctuating temperatures and a few more bits and pieces of snow, so the freeze, slight thaw, and refreeze has made some of the back roads slightly slick already. I like the slip and slide of tires as the car searches for grip, it means winter is truly upon us.
We went to an open stretch of space, one of the nearest to where we live in the city, Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park. Only a half hour trip by car, and we were treated to a long stretch, mentally, and a short stretch, physically. What a sight! Rolling foothills with a light dusting of snow, and beyond the hills, the mountains reaching up in the distance.
The day was windy to start, and even more blustery out of the city and on exposed hillsides, but the brisk cold and long views underneath blue skies were invigorating.
Close up, under our noses, the view was pretty good, with patches of red berries, and clumps of golden grass poking through the snow. Small beauties to smile over. Then there was the big picture, with the snow both smoothing the landscape and highlighting the contours away and away and away. How can a view like this be contained in a camera phone image? I couldn’t do it!
Face west, reach out and stretch wide to the south, and the mountains recede into the distance, beyond fingertips. Do the same to the north, and the same thing. So much to embrace, more than you can hold. What a range!
There was a search and rescue team out in the park, wonderful people, training and honing their essential skills. They were stopping to study tracks, looking for signs of their “missing” person, and asked if we’d seen anyone in difficulty? We hadn’t, although it was difficult to return to the car – it wouldn’t have been too bad to stay out a bit longer, be just a little bit lost.
A short walk a short distance from home that provided long, long views – it’s no stretch to say we are lucky to be where we are.
Thanks for reading – I hope you get a chance to stretch outdoors – and have a wonderful weekend!






My theory is the wave action is slightly hypnotic, at least on a calmer day, and you end up forgetting to check the time. Soothing sounds, and I’ve been known to drop off, nodding and drooling. That’ll be the old in OldPlaidCamper. Nothing wrong with that, and with beaches this empty, no witnesses!







Our first afternoon in the woods was hot and humid, but under the canopy oh so green and lush. The trail was simple enough to pick out, sometimes rocky underfoot, sometimes grassy, and sometimes earthy, with changes in the terrain every few metres. Exposed slopes and clearings were bug free with a slight sea breeze. In these open areas, golden grass was almost like straw in the strong sun.
Into the trees and away from the bluffs overlooking the sea, it was not as hot, the air was still and rather humid, with the whine of an occasional mosquito. I wasn’t bitten, so Mrs. PC was spared the whine of an old PlaidCamper.
Relative to steepness of slope, soil coverage and the presence of large rock outcrops, the trees were a mix of short and gnarled to tall and gnarled, growing in tight groups with dense undergrowth, or further apart with little brush beneath. Pacific Madrones, Garry Oaks, and Western Red Cedars – a wonderfully varied yet cohesive green, grey, rusty and yellow landscape to wander through (yup, I’ve been reading my tree books!)
The Tsawout trails got us up and out in a series of wonderful hiking afternoons. Tramping through the woods, coming across little coves, stopping to admire views, tree shapes, and textures, it was a special place, and we had a very happy time exploring it.
Salt Spring Island is a splendid location to be on holiday! One (or two?) more Salt Spring posts in the next week or so, and then we’ll have to leave, sniff.

























Steady driving on near empty roads through breathtaking scenery, with sunshine and snow, rivers and lakes, and mountains and valleys helped to restore a sense of balance with each passing kilometre. We appreciated it then, and, with hindsight, appreciate it even more now…
Was it so very quiet, though? To be fair, when we took a short hike around Lac Beauvert, the honking of hundreds of geese could hardly be described as quiet – far from it – but it was soothing to see and hear something real rather than fabricated. It made sense. So did the industry and purpose we saw from a dipper busily splashing and feeding along the banks of a small stream. The beating and rushing of wings as geese flew in organized Vs straight over our heads was a wonderful sound.

Might I suggest you get outside this weekend? Turn off the intrusive soundtrack of recent days? Hug a tree, jump a stream, climb a hill, skim some stones, hike in the woods? Remember, there is a reality beyond our political constructs – this reality needs our help – and it sustains our conceited constructs. Go on, go out there, appreciate what we’ve got and hope we still have it in the years to come.
