Sunday, October 16, 2016

The calm after the storms.

Thankfully the major storm we expected on Saturday night was further west, further north and less organized than predicted. We had good winds, gusting near 100km/h but no significant damage. This evening the sea is calm, the air is cool and the Sound is full of cloud.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Home in the murk

Watching the weather develop and evolve these past days is amazing. Every fall I feel the liveliness of the energy in the October storms. There is life in them: they clear the leaves and fall trees and fill the creeks with water for the salmon to find.

This evening is murky. There is a lot of water in the atmosphere and it's warm. The forecast is also murky, and we look forward 36 hours to what might be a very bad typhoon remnant if it its us in just the right way. For today though, last night's storm has moved on and a second is building in, the preludes to something truly magisterial.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Clouds are building in now and the first of three storms is approaching tonight.

Location:An uncompromising sky

The light comes through

The sun continues its travels south, cresting over Eagle Ridge as seen from my house this morning. I love the dark cool mornings of fall. This morning's sky is laced with cirrus clouds as the clear calm weather we have had begins to break down. Three big storms are coming with damaging winds expected and up to 20cm of rain. It is going to be wet and scary for a few days, especially for folks new to Bowen. Their first major wind storms.

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Inquisitive morning

A calm morning before some storms we are expecting. The gulls are agitated by the eagles flying high above them over the mouth of Mannion Bay. The towhees have changed their calls from garrulous cries to inquisitive whistles. There is a chill in the katabatic breeze.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

I love this place

I love the Indian plum blooming in February.

I love the glassy transparent green of Mannion Bay in the evening.

I love the smell of soil coming to life in the forest.

I love a local cafe covered in blue hearts.

I love the creeks rushing into the sea, over waterfall and between the roots of cedars and firs.

I love the way people's shoulders drop and the way they take lungfuls of air after walking off the ferry.

I love that I can't go anywhere without being interrupted with a hello.

Just gratitude this morning.

Thursday, March 3, 2016

We lost a big one today

Piers Hayes, our village maitre d' and man of the house at the Snug died today.  This came out:


So many of us never had a name
when we walked through the door of the snug
but it was all the same to him;
he knew that you 
would always respond if he just called you “Blue"

He was a blue eyed charmer
a maitre d' for a whole community
a casual character that buzzed like bee
from table to table, knitting together strangers
with his self-deprecating humour
but with a laser focus on what he could do
to make the world a little less blue.

I heard him once tell the story 
of how he left the azure skies of Africa
and shipped his family on the turquoise sea
and for years they saw every colour it could be - 
the greys and greens and dark blue deep
storm tossed and washed in adventure
held in the currents that carried them between continents.

He never entered quietly
But he blew into a room
like a Salish Sea southeasterly
or hollered out hellos and bellowed greetings
from behind the bar, meeting
each customer as a friend,
tending tender connections

The day he died, the rain was steely grey.
As if the blue had seeped out of the sea and the sky
and pierced every heart that broke and every soul that cried
with the news that he was gone.
He left us stories and affection
and a recognition that we will always remember
how we belong.