photography – Page 40 – OldPlaidCamper

Safe Harbour

Don’t we all need a safe harbour? It’s ok, nothing ranty after my recent incoherence last week (still, I felt better after, and it was preferable to signing up for a twitter account – just imagine…)

We’ve been spending a few days in Ucluelet, on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Entire mornings seem to drift by as we sit or wander around the harbour. It’s an easy habit to fall into, and the warm and sunny weather is an encouragement to sit just that little longer. So we did. A belted kingfisher has been zooming back and forth, busy as ever. We’ve seen fewer bald eagles around the harbour. They’ve headed north to feed on the salmon. I hope they get a good meal.

Loosely translated from a local First Nations word, Ucluelet means “safe harbour” – a sheltered place for canoes and fishing boats. For paddling, we tend to avoid the wilder Pacific side, opting for the safer and calmer waters on the harbour side. We’re not the only ones this time of year:

We could hear the barking and traced the source round to the Ucluelet boat and kayak launch. What a splendid sight! The barking is loud and pretty constant, and perhaps an explanation for the empty campsites nearby?!

Sadly, this float has been spiked in an attempt to keep the sea lions from basking. Cruel, and it isn’t working. You can read more about this particular situation at the following link (our buddy Wayne, a photographer, took sharper pictures and spotted the problem: Welcome to Tofino Photography – Sea Lions Being Injured). Fingers crossed for a solution, and then the sea lions will be able to enjoy their safe harbour.

Back in August, I was sitting on a bench (that’s a shocker) overlooking the harbour when a gleaming black SUV stopped behind me. The driver rolled down his window and called out to an older gentleman crossing the road, where would he find the Starbucks or Tim Horton’s? The guy in the road, dressed like he was heading out fishing, stopped, a look of disbelief on his face. “Huh? You want a Starbucks? Where d’you think you are? You won’t get that here! You want that, you need the big city. This ain’t the city!” He shook his head and finished shuffling across the road. (The SUV was stopped right in front of a fishing gear store that also happens to make a very good – according to Mrs. PC – cappuccino. There is even a large sign, Cap’n Hook, Cappuccino and Fishing Gear. It ain’t Starbucks…)

Blue skies, green trees, shining water, sea lions, birds and fish. Oh, and decent coffee. Some of the sights and sounds of a busy working harbour on the west coast, and a welcome change of pace. Spending time in quieter places – it ain’t the big city!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Finding Thanksgiving

It is Canadian Thanksgiving this coming Monday, and we’ve plenty, personally, to be thankful for. Oh, Canada! Far from perfect, a work in progress, and thank goodness we are trying. Having said that, recent events in the news leave one feeling a touch guilty about feeling thankful. Honestly, you don’t have to look too hard for evidence to encourage the belief that the world is on a slippery slope right now.

DSCF5958 — Thankful for places like this

Do you find yourself mentally exhausted each time you read about the latest crisis? The events themselves are terrible, and awful for the innocent people caught up in them. I know I lead a privileged and comfortable existence compared with many, so my complaining here is trivial. Here I go anyway. I’m dejected and appalled by the other noise that follows, or masquerades as, the news.

The disillusion and despair is felt most particularly when “leadership” responses appear to be all about changing (ignoring) the facts or focus of discussion. To be this disingenuous about serving in government is a disgrace. When they did this, it really means that! I’m right, and don’t anybody ask what this is actually about! You must agree with me. If you dare to express otherwise, then it proves you are that!

There are statements (speeches, or rather, rants, and tweets – tweets?! – how is that “statesmanlike” or seemly?!) appealing to base notions, or simplifying complicated issues so that pointing fingers and assigning blame overshadows the issue instead of finding solutions. Let’s just control or falsify the narrative to ensure we look good. Any humility? An admission mistakes can be/have been made? Can we allow for another point of view? Nope! Noise, shouting, more noise, and more shouting. I’m in charge and I know best. Oh dear. Common decency and common sense appear to be more and more uncommon these days. Calm things down? No, that won’t make me look strong! Let me threaten instead! It’s so much easier to spread fear and blame than it is to provide hope and help, especially if the needy aren’t your narrow-minded supporters…

I’d better stop writing this. I’m not going to stop reading the news, or cease having an opinion – if we all did, no doubt that would make certain parties only too happy. I will aim for being positive, and that personal positivity will be found most readily in natural settings. I do understand that nature, or the environment, is social/economic/political, but when you’re on the trail, or under canvas, or splashing about in the water, the immediacy of what you’re doing takes over, energizes you, and some of the other concerns fall away, if only for a while.

Well, we might be at the bottom of the barrel – it can’t get any worse, can it? – but you’ve got to try and be glass half full. I’ve a feeling we’re all going to need as much energy as possible as we attempt to look forward. Has it really been less than a year? Aiming for the positive, I’m thankful for all the voices that acknowledge and value our wonderful diversity and common humanity. I’m thankful for all the beautiful places still left on our amazing planet. I’m thankful it’s still possible to agree to disagree and not raise fists.

Hmm. Struggling for coherence here. I think I’ve vented enough – thanks for your patience, and maybe your understanding – and have a wonderful weekend!

The photographs were taken late September at Glenbow Ranch Provincial Park, AB

A big little bird

A little ball of feathers that sure was a fun shore bird to watch. This week, a short post about a tiny bird (one of Mrs. PC’s favourites – we have framed prints and tea towels to prove it!)

We were wandering along Terrace Beach, Ucluelet, enjoying the day, and keeping an eye out for a pair of bald eagles we’d seen earlier that week. Spotting a bald eagle is always a thrill, and if you’re out on the west coast of Vancouver Island, you’ll often see one or more most days if you’re looking. Or even if you’re not.

We sat down on a log – we seem to do a lot of that – to listen to the waves wash up onto the shore, and eat a small snack. We seem to do a lot of that, too. He was well camouflaged on this particular part of the shore, but we eventually spied a little Western Sandpiper – he had probably been there quite a while before we saw him. Well, once he was in our sights, what fun he was to observe.

He scurried on busy little legs just ahead of and across each set of waves, foraging for food in the sand and seaweed. Unperturbed by our presence, he worked the shoreline mere metres from where we were sitting, back and forth with admirable intent, stocking up for a lengthy flight to come. Tiny in size, but huge in heart! (I know, an overactive imagination and anthropomorphism, but I can’t help it…)

On previous days, we had most often seen these sandpipers in small flocks. I like the flash of white as they speed along the beach, making fast turns and flying in short bursts. For the time we saw this one, he appeared to be a solitary bird. Maybe it needed some down time away from the hustle and bustle of flock life? Maybe we simply missed the other birds or they arrived later? No, he was the lone ‘piper, out on a purposeful mission. There I go again…

We arrived searching for big birds, but left happy (a particularly happy Mrs. PC) having seen this big-hearted and beautiful little bird!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Green, gold and red

Last week was silver, this week, gold. (Might be time to stop with the treasure titles…) Anyway, for this week, a few fall thoughts and pictures, and not much structure.

I’ve never really had the time before to wander around Sunnyside during the week, when most are at work or school. It feels slightly illicit. I strolled around the neighbourhood the other day on a beautiful autumnal morning. Ah, what an excellent day it was for displacement activity! I like to have a short list of tasks to do each day, so that at the end of the day I can beat myself up about not achieving them. (I don’t actually feel bad about it – I use unfinished or untackled tasks to make the list for the next day – now isn’t that productive?)

Fall has arrived, and in the foothills and the city, temperatures have been anywhere between early summer and early winter. As I sit and write this, (ooh, check that off the list for today) cold rain is falling and we’ll be in single digits with a slight chance of snow the next couple of days. Then warm sunshine once more. I love weather forecasts and the fall seesaw.

I was breaking in a new pair of boots (check), readying them for a hike we’ve got planned for the coming weekend. The new boots were long overdue. It is time for new ones when the old ones are held together with mud, and they walk by themselves to the nearest garbage can, begging to be put out of their misery. The aroma was distinct, but surely not unpleasant? I thought they had a few more miles left in them, but the refusal of friends and family to walk with me said otherwise.

Sunnyside and the Bow river looked splendid in the bright sunshine. Determined joggers, vigorous dog walkers, wagging dogs, slightly frazzled parents with babies and toddlers, speedy cyclists, and a late middle-aged time-waster were using the pathways along the river, enjoying themselves and the day.

Autumn is one time of year when I think about our old life back in Europe. I think it is the colours and the smells of fallen leaves, the faint scent of decay. It seems to prompt nostalgia and reflection. Calgary is a lively and well-resourced city if you need to be in an urban area, lacking little, but it doesn’t have a wide variety of deciduous trees providing fall colour. I think of the London oaks, planes and chestnuts, and the sweet chestnuts, walnuts, and alders of Bordeaux and Perigueux. We lived near the Foret de la Double, and it was a fine place to wander in the fall. But that was back then, and in the here and now we can enjoy the green and gold.

Walt, over at Rivertop Rambles (Rivertop Rambles – Double Focus), recently wrote about being home after a period away, and the slightly schizophrenic nature of our thoughts as we exist in one physical place and think about another. I often find myself doing that, even when I’m happy enough where we are. Aren’t we complicated creatures, sometimes?

Bringing myself into the present, my main thought in all this written meandering and on those pleasant riverside paths, is that I’m grateful to have lived in and visited so many places, and currently very happy to find myself in Western Canada. Looking back is good, living in the present is good, and looking forward is good. It’s all good – aren’t we fortunate?

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Mud and silver – treasure!

A few weeks ago we wandered onto the edge of some Tofino tidal mudflats, wondering what we might see. Taking care not to disturb habitat, and squelching about, we uncovered riches in the mud – we discovered silver. An incredible trove right under our noses. We hit the mother lode! (I’d best come clean here, although you’ve probably already guessed…)

What wealth was found? Silver? Yes and no. Not the fill your pockets and consider yourself materially wealthy kind of silver. The treasure was finer than solid silver – if your mind works that way.

The early morning mist had cleared, and the tide receded. The sun shone down on the flats and they glittered and sparkled. The mud was dazzling! A silvery sheen and shine, and what was a beautiful sight became even more so. It almost hurt to look at it.

It is so quiet on the inlet side, a marked contrast to the constant surf sounds of the Pacific not so far away. You can hear the movement of water, the mud oozing and shifting. The air is rich, earthy and salty, full of life. The water rises, the water falls, and the landscape changes constantly. It is a fragile environment, one that sustains an astonishing diversity of life. It is Planet Food. Creatures wriggle, burrow, scuttle and buzz in, on, over, and under the mud.

Look down, and it is delicate and intricate immediately under your feet. Look up, and it is vast and seemingly unending as you stare into the distance. What a place to be!

The silver disappeared as the sun moved through the sky, changing angle. It became less silver, but no less of a treasure. Two children were exploring the flats, perfectly immersed in their tasks and surroundings, unplugged yet completely connected. Imagine seeing such finery and it isn’t artificial, superficial, gaudy or brash. A huge treasure you can’t (or shouldn’t) keep and covet, or own in an acquisitive way. It isn’t for that.

Natural treasures large and small are all over the planet and never that far away for most of us. They have a value and importance beyond financial numbers. They aren’t possessions, but responsibility for them belongs to all of us. Imagine if we changed our thinking about what value means, what wealth means. Is it possible we could already be rich, living on this giant ball of amazing value? It’s there if you choose to see it.

Treasure hunters at play – can you see them?

Treasure beyond measure! I know, I know – there are harsh economic and political realities for billions on the planet – but allow me some out of touch tree-hugger wishful thinking. It doesn’t have to be this way. Must’ve inhaled something leaking from that mud…

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Tough little grey guy

We had so many wonderful bird encounters over the past couple of months. I enjoyed them all, whether the birds were big or small. So, how about an occasional series? Alright then!

Here is a well built bird, the Belted Kingfisher. I can’t remember exactly what it was we were meant to be doing – popping to the store for some milk? – but we ended up watching this little fellow.

He stopped on a nearby branch of a tree, took one glance at us, and then poured all his attention into finding fish. Or ignoring that guy staring at him. I was delighted to see him at quite close range. I’d spotted him zooming across the harbour on previous mornings, flying away from us each time.

Since he was sat facing away, I rummaged for my camera – maybe we weren’t going to the store for milk, I can’t recall wanting to photograph that – and sidled a little closer. He didn’t fly off, or even look over, so I sidled some more. I snapped away, hoping he’d turn towards the camera. I couldn’t change my angle without wading out into the harbour, and I couldn’t be sure Mrs. PC would let me accompany her to the store in wet trousers. (That’s me in the wet trousers. Obviously, I’d go with Mrs. PC to the store if her trousers were wet, not that that would happen. This is why I avoid stores. And wet trousers…)

The tough little blue-grey guy didn’t shift position on his perch, so the photographs I took were the best I could get. I’m happy he wasn’t bothered by my presence, and pleased I’d met a rugged, silvery, and outdoorsy type. Unbothered by rumpled hair, completely focused, in his element – and then Mrs. PC called me back so we could go fetch the milk. I’m sure he fetched his fish!

What a lovely bird! So distinctive, with the large bill, the beautiful colour, the shock of “hair” and such a sturdy profile. I’ll have to go to the store more often if it will lead to these encounters!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

End of summer…

…and the start of something new!

According to the calendar, it is still summer, but when September comes around, I always think it is more or less autumn – even if city temperatures here in Calgary have been way above seasonal norms. Not pleasant, and I miss the cool of the coast already!

Anyway, the clock keeps ticking, the seasons are changing, and whining won’t make it any different. Time to say farewell to summer, and I’ll do that here by posting some late evening and sunset pictures taken in Ucluelet. I’m not sure if they are blurry, or if it is the veil of tears that I’m fighting back? Such a sensitive PlaidCamper…

For the first time in a long while I’m not in back-to-school mode because I’m taking a sabbatical (a fancy word for unemployed?) from teaching. Instead, I’m recharging, focusing on different interests, and planning ways to downsize and still earn a small living. Labour Day just ahead, and I’m not labouring. Hello September, you look different this year!

Keeping it brief – being back in the city has seen time shrink, or a list of tasks grow. I’ll produce a few more coastal reflections and reminiscences over the next little while as we sort ourselves out and I get organized.

All the best to you as school/work/life/NFL/NHL/whatever resumes after the summer break – if your timetable runs like that. Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful long weekend!

Tipping points and falling out…

A brief post this week, and not as dramatic as it sounds – oh no, not the tipping point! Falling out? The drama! Nothing exciting like that. Simply a short piece about not falling out (so far)…

We picked up a couple of kayaks a little while back. Hours and hours of research, window shopping, daydreaming, comparing different boats and their capabilities (bearing in mind our limited capabilities), materials, and price points. What fun I had, and how happy Mrs. PC was that there was a little project to keep me quiet. Once I’d made a final choice – and there were many final choices, me being a decisive sort – Mrs. PC pointed out that the real limitation wasn’t what would fit on the car, wasn’t even price, but the fact that we have limited storage space. I’m not the practical sort – I like boats because they’re old and/or blue, remember?

So we picked up two short kayaks a little while back, and they fit into our storage space. You have to be practical…

I love bobbing about in my little (blue) kayak! I always find kayaks feel a lot more tippy than a canoe, but so far – at the time of writing – I’ve yet to tip either, more through luck than skill or judgement. We’ve stuck to very calm bays and inlets along the shore, and made every attempt to choose the least windy parts of the day. This seems to be mornings, and late afternoons and evenings. No doubt, as I become overconfident, I’ll discover the tipping point, and rest assured, I’ll write about it on here. No misadventures will be hidden by this almost outdoorsman. Of course, if there are no pictures, that’ll be because I should have put my camera in a better dry bag…

I like playing in the boat, and I like taking pictures. A new challenge is combining the two! Canoes on lakes are wonderfully stable, and mountains and trees keep wonderfully still. Kayaks on tidal waters, with wash and wake from other vessels – you should see how many photographs I’ve deleted. I like that they can be straightened after the fact, but how off the mark I’ve been is something. I was tempted to post a few of the really poor ones with this piece, but I’ve tried your patience long enough.

More about our kayak adventures and explorations in the future. Much like our initial excursions, I’ll keep it brief – as promised. Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Sea and sky…

…and a pop of colour! A short post this week, and mostly focused on…a lack of focus that has been very pleasant.

On our rambles around the coast, we’ve been lucky enough to enjoy warm weather and clear skies. So far, we’ve been caught in the rain just once, and that’s fine by us. When skies haven’t been clear, and the mist and fog has rolled in, or there’s a bank just offshore, it has been hard to see where the water stops and the sky starts.

Staring out into the ocean, it is all blurred, no precise definition. The horizon disappears from view, the visible world shrinks, and feels more immediate.

When we’re out in the mountains, the long views and far reaching vistas are one of the many delights of that particular geography. Here on the coast, the fog and mist limit your view, creating something shifting – and fun to photograph – a land and seascape that is captivating to experience.

The photographs this week were taken on different days, and all were an attempt to find the line between sea and sky. It is there, somewhere, but indistinct, and we enjoyed not seeing it. We took our eyes off the horizon, became unfocused and walked on the edge. Unfocused and on the edge – sounds dangerous?! Not really. Look at what’s in front of you. It’s alright, you won’t fall off.

Sometimes, there is too much attention paid to being sharp, defined, and having clarity. Those big ideas and far reaching vision. Not too much of that here this week (or most weeks) – let go, don’t zoom in, drift, dream, and be a bit wooly. Life can be all the better for that, from time to time, he says, somewhat vaguely…

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

Washed up and washed out blues

Oh the blues…

Not the “life is so sad, lost my job, s/he left me, the roof is leaking and my dog, cat and hamster died on me” blues, although there’s a time and a place. Rather, the “I love the colour of those boats in the harbour” blues. Not sure if there is a song in that, but maybe there should be. If you write it, I promise not to sing it.

We were wandering about Ucluelet Small Craft Harbour, admiring the variety of boats, watching the comings and goings of craft large and small, and admiring the catches of the day. A mixture of busy and quiet, it is a lovely place to find a seat and enjoy a warm summer evening, so we did.

My eye is always drawn to blue and green, and here it was no different. There was a smattering of beautiful blue vessels tucked in between the more prevalent greys and creams. I’m hugely ignorant of matters maritime, and it is a good thing I’m not in the market for a boat because I’d choose a blue one before choosing the right one.

A fool and his dollars are easily parted – that is why I rarely shop, and when I do, Mrs PC is there to rein me in. So when I saw the lovely Tromso was for sale, and for a mere $8000, she shook her head, took me by the arm and led me away. No, we don’t need to live on a boat, there’s nothing “mere” about $8000, and we don’t have $8000.

I thought Tromso had character, and I could relate to her age. She’s rusting, I’m greying. Weather beaten and a bit worn around the edges? Yup. Some bulging and sagging where you’d rather it wasn’t? Okay. Looks good in blue and green? Enough already…

So the nautical life remains undiscovered by this old PlaidCamper, and the harbour side blues play in my head every time I look out and see the Tromso tethered and rusting down by the dock. She looks a little washed up and washed out, but I think there’s some life left in her. I hope the right person comes along and sees the potential. I’ve been searching down the back of the sofa, but to no avail.

Sing along if you want to – “I love the Tromso and I don’t have a cat…” – oh my unnecessary nautical blues!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend!

	Maria on A short trip…
	plaidcamper on A short trip…
	Maria on A short trip…
	plaidcamper on Striding out…
	plaidcamper on Winter mountain hush