Road trip!

There's nothing like a few days away - particularly when glorious spring weather is combined with a destination like Vancouver Island. Last week I unexpectedly made just such a trip. The reason for my trip was to assist a friend in need but I felt I also benefited from taking myself out of the studio for a breather.

There are places on this planet that seem to nurture us simply by being there, and I find Vancouver Island to be one of them. Even from on board the ferry, one gets the sense of moving into a different place of beauty and serenity.

Behind my friend's home in the quaint town of Port Alberni is a network of trails where walkers and cyclists enjoy the quiet of the forest with its moss laden trees, beaver ponds, carpets of ferns, and, at the moment, an abundance of my favourite spring flowers: trilliums. Roxy, my cocker spaniel buddy whom I blogged about last year (see Portrait of a Best Friend), is staying with me while her family is away travelling. Both she and my old collie Riley accompanied me on this trip, and the three of us enjoyed meandering through these serene trails on several occasions. Apparently black bears and cougars are common visitors to the area, but the only bear we saw on this trip was one that galloped lickity-split across the highway in front of my car, and we did not have any up-close-and-personal encounters with large wild animals while on foot.


Roxy enjoying a walk in the forest.

On the journey home, we paused at Cathedral Grove - a truly magical place. Just steps from the main road, ancient, moss shrouded, old-growth trees tower above some of the biggest, most lush trilliums I've ever seen. Birds flitted about, including delightful Winter Wrens shouting their spring songs from tree stump podiums, and a gorgeous Varied Thrush that paused briefly on a branch. Kestrels called from the tree-tops and an unseen tree frog added an amphibian song. This place is soothing to the soul.

A massive trillium sprouting from the base of a giant tree

A Varied Thrush on a mossy branch

 

Can you spot the tiny Winter Wren?

Before heading to the ferry terminal, we made a diversion to the town of Crofton to call on another friend. We took the dogs for a stroll on the sea-walk at Crofton Bay where I was hoping I'd see one of my favourite bird species, the Pacific Oyster Catcher. What I did see was this plump otter happily munching on a large fish on the beach just a stone's throw from where we stood. A beautiful pair of Mergansers rested nearby, also observing the feasting otter.

Seafood lunch in Crofton Bay

Merganser couple

 

A silk painting of mine featuring an Oyster Catcher

Back on the mainland I made one last stop. In the trees growing against some bluffs near the ferry terminal is a heron rookery. The trees were dotted with the shapes of Great Blue Herons flapping to and fro or standing guard over their nests. Spending a few moments observing this natural wonder was a fitting conclusion to my trip.



And now I'm back in my studio, feeling refreshed, renewed and ready for the tasks at hand.

Songs of Spring

What a difference a few days can make! Just last week, as I shivered in my fleece sweater and listened to the thrumming of the furnace, I wondered if the chill winds and endless rains would ever leave us. And then suddenly spring arrived. It's like some cosmic switch got flipped and the seasons changed over night. As I write this I'm sitting outside in my shirt sleeves enjoying the sunshine. My old dog is warming her arthritic bones nearby, as is my crotchety senior cat. We're making the most of it and soaking up some much appreciated rays. My favourite season has arrived, filled with promise.

Steller's Jay

Spotted Towhee

The birds are rejoicing too! At this moment I can hear a sparrow's sweet call, the rough voice of a Steller's jay, the cawing of a crow, and what I think is the twittering of a flock of bush tits making their rounds, all of this over the steady drone of suburban lawn mowers, the voices of playing children, and the distant din of air planes and automobile traffic. During the past few days of warmer weather, the birds have emerged in abundance and are making their presence known.


Black-capped Chickadee

On any given morning on my dawdling walk to the local park with my slow-poke dog, I see juncos, chickadees, various types of sparrows, Steller's jays, flickers, towhees, the ever-present starlings, and on my neighbourhood's weekly garbage day there are always numerous crows and sea gulls scoping out any unsecured trash containers. One morning, high above me I made out a flock of swans heading north. I saw a pair of house wrens on a fence and a couple of finches flitted by. And on yet another morning recently, as I observed the antics of a pair of courting Steller's jays, a bald eagle soared overhead. But perhaps best of all, there are robins... lots and lots of robins!


American Robin

Over the past couple of years, I had become increasingly concerned that this iconic bird, once so common here, was in trouble. There was a handful of them around but their numbers seemed drastically reduced. One of my favourite childhood summer memories was waking up to the sound of chirping robins whose "cheer up, cheer up, cheerily cheer up" warble would be heard again later, with slight variation, as each day drew to a close. I missed that sound deeply. Perhaps difficult spring weather conditions here over the past couple of years affected their numbers or there was some problem in their wintering grounds. Happily this spring the robins have returned to my area in abundance. I am both delighted and relieved.

Each morning I'm once again waking up to the robins' lively song. I also hear the redwinged blackbirds in the nearby golf course and the gabbling of Canada geese. Last night, through the open window which ushered in fresh spring air, I made out the rapid-fire "hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo" of a pygmy owl - a male advertising his presence to any nearby females - above the trilling of frogs who were also busy vocalizing their own spring songs.

I continue to be astounded at the resilience of birds. Despite habitat loss, human encroachment, pollution and other modern-day problems, so many species are able to adapt. I regularly see nuthatches at my bird feeder, not to mention what I consider to be shy forest birds, the Pileated woodpeckers. To be able to gaze out of the window of my simple home in an unremarkable suburban neighbourhod and watch these adaptable wild creatures gives me joy and nourishes my artistic soul.


A nuthatch at my bird feeder.

Bookends! Two pilieated woodpeckers on the tree in
my front yard.

A trio of small drawings of nuthatches.

To top it off, what did I happen to see during a walk at my favourite park yesterday? My first trillium of the year - a sure sign that spring is well and truly here. Not only are the birds singing, my heart is too. And I feel some new artwork coming on!

 

My drawing of a much-loved spring flower - a trillium -
complete with a ladybug.

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Written with condolences to the other parts of Canada where elusive spring is still keeping its distance.