A hint of Spring after the snow has us sitting on the deck appreciating the beauty of our island home. It conjures a promise of the good times to come.
This is the first winter in 7 years living here where snow blanketed Hornby for a week. Along with two day long power outages, the short lived snowpocalypse affords us lots of time; to read and write, to enjoy long walks and to play board games while appreciating the luxury of both our gas and wood burning stoves., and to simply watch the snow falling.
We love to eat. I wish I didn't use the word love so often and freely so I could reserve it for moments like this when I want to convey the enormity of what I feel. Fresh, local, home grown, organic, hand picked, delicious. Like these snap peas from our friend Deb's garden and the hand picked raspberries from Pam Gordon's organic farm that come with the gentle nudge to eat them today. The colours, the flavour, the goodness, the health and luxury; simply beyond words. Makes me happy to live here on Hornby where the clean rain, rich soil and deep soul of the growers feed more than my body.
A Sunday between rainstorms is the perfect opportunity to hike around Helliwell and its stunning panorama. Despite it being January there are signs Spring is close; eagles standing sentinel in the tall trees, serenading sea lions barking in the distance, and flocks of seagulls gathered on Flora Islet. Signs the Herring Run is coming close.
Warm sunshine grace the bluffs and our faces and we walk in gratitude for the good fortune of living on Hornby in the winter.
To celebrate my birthday I made my way to Phipps Point. I drive by it every time we come home from farther afield off-island and its beauty always calls. Today we arrived at high tide so we were held to the old dock and treated to expansive views of the mountains on Vancouver Island.
I never leave for the big city without country tastes from Hornby to sweeten my visit. For my parents the walnuts collected from under our tree backyard and homemade jam, picked at the height of the summer under the August sun, for my dear friends. Each jar is filled with the twisting and the reaching it took to gather Hornby's famous blackberries and its nice to think about them coming to their fruition.
Winter in the country. Like a good guest, the snow was gone in a day and no trouble whatsoever.
It just insulates us and holds us in a deeper silence.
Everyday wonders dusted with white.