Tweety's babies

About a week ago, I posted a picture of a Junco nest, complete with four blue eggs. Well, they

have hatched, and here's a view of the babies, mouth wide open, waiting from Mom and Dad to bring some goodies.

Aren't those mouths like a target? Bright red with a yellow outline. How could you miss dropping a bug in there? And they are not silent either!

Every time we come out the front door, these days, we have to remember not to walk up the stone steps. We don't want to disturb the little family unnecessarily.

From my pictures, I counted three mouths. I wonder if the fourth is hidden in the back, or did one egg not hatch?

Tug and log boom

Sunday's commute back from Victoria: Saturna Island on the left and a tugboat pulling a log boom (click on the picture for a larger view).

I tried to find a Canadian website that describes "log booms" or "log rafts" for those of us who did not grow up on the West Coast. Most of what I found seems to apply to the Ottawa Valley logging era. But I did find an excellent Washington state history page - with great pictures - on log transport. This is still the way entire forests are transported around here.

A week ago, another tug was pulling a log raft on Plumper Sound. It looked like this:

Actually, if you are really interested in past and present practices of log transport in BC, and their environmental impact, take a look at this UBC paper on the topic. Be prepared, it's technical. But there is an excellent description of the process on pages 5 to 7.

And if you are interested in learning more about the logging industry, or at least one aspect of it, as well as reading about a real life event, complete with the protagonist's mysterious disappearance, I suggest you read The Golden Spruce, by John Vaillant. Actually, I found that book at bit scattered, but the author does describe the logging industry, past practices (some are probably still in effect), horrible logging accidents and stories of courage. If you can find it at your local library, it's worth checking out.

Well, that's it for today. Gotta go walk the dog before getting on the ferry again...

Sweet thing on the path

Yep, it's spring and there are beautiful things to look at every time I take a walk around here.




First, here is a view of Boot Cove, Saturna Island, near my home. A lovely Southern Gulf Island snapshot, showing the peaceful setting where I walk amost every day.


When on the path, I find all kinds of treasure and I am going to share a few of the ones I found this morning. Forgive me if I get a little philosophical about them, they just touch me very deeply.




First, a close-up of Stonecrop - a tough little plant that grows on rocks out of reach of the ever-hungry deer. Soon, it will flower and its bloom is bright yellow. But right now, the contrast between its plump "leaves" and the surrounding lichen is just too delicious...

Then, there is Oregon grape, an interesting plant that grows all around here. It's a local, with plenty of presence. Right now, it's starting to bloom as well.


Love the contrast between the golden bloom and the dark foliage...









And for the final eye candy, another closeup of Calypso Bulbosa, the very sexy orchid that is in bloom at this time... everywhere, it seems...




That calypso is almost too pink, too cute for words. Nature really dreamed up a wonderful colour scheme for this flower. It's like a burst of
bright colour on the forest floor. The flower is only about 3 to 6 inches off the ground... (For a close-up, click on the picture)

Needless to say, this shot was taken while flat on my stomach.

Mosses of April: Magic Land!

I live in a magic wonderland of emerald green. Every walk reveals a miniature world of textures, and I've started paying much more attention to the minute stuff that grows around here.

To think that I didn't use to like green!

The latest rains have fluffed up all the mosses, and sometimes when you take a step, your foot sinks almost to the ankle. It's a wonderful feeling.

Even Finn the dog takes great pleasure in the moss carpet around here. During every walk, he manages to take a dive, and rolls on the green carpet in the forest with what looks like a big smile on his face. Irresistible, it seems.




When you glance quickly, it all seems the same. But a more careful look reveals the diversity of mosses. I have begun poring over various online guidebooks from, and I am hunting the names of these mosses.



Wish me luck.



This one (below) looks like some punk kid. A little "gelled hair" style, don't you think?

This is Oregon beaked moss (I think). This type of moss is prevalent in the area where I live, on Saturna Island. It drapes over fallen trees, rocks. It's everywhere. Very lush stuff.

And this last one, is fuzzy-looking, a wonderful shade of green... and I couldn't resist taking its picture.

Garry oaks

You know the season is moving along when the garry oaks start to burst out into leaves. Garry oaks like sunny and dry locations. They survive in front of my house, over a cliff, along with arbutus trees, where few other trees can manage the dry conditions.

This was yesterday's set of budding leaves, still dripping from the early morning rain, full of promise, and not completely set up with chlorophyll... so not really green at all, yet.

Today - one day later - by late afternoon, the foliage has already grown by inches. If you camped out under the trees, you'd probably hear them groan with the effort.

But the most interesting things I noticed was the colour of the garry oak on the cliff below the plateau where my house is located.

When I walked out closer to the cliff, I was able to look down on a tree that is hanging on to the rock, below "my horizon". Apparently, the heat down there is much more intense, because the foliage is already green in comparison.

This is a garry oak that lives only 50 feet away from the others, but in a different climate completely.

By summertime, it can barely hang on to its leaves, it's so hot down there. Baking.

Can't wait for summer!

The birds, the bees, the fish...

Spring is in the air... the days are much longer, the sun peeks in more often, or simply burns the clouds and fog away, and everything is bursting with life.

To the left, plum blossoms, the promise of tasty things to come. The two plum trees are buzzing with insects.


Last April (yes, a year ago), I went to watch local volunteers get tens of thousands of salmon fry out of the back of a pickup and into Lyall Creek. Quite the bucket brigade. On that sunny day a year ago, all these little guys were released in Lyall Creek , following several years of restoration efforts to make the creek a more inviting habitat for the salmon. Wonder how many of those babies will make it back to Saturna's waters?




In front of my house, a junco has decided to nest in the stone steps, beneath a canopy of thyme.

I was quite surprised to see its nest - so close to the house and all the foot traffic around here these days (we are renovating and there has been a constant stream of work people). But the bird must have been attracted by the warmth of the afternoon sun on the stone steps.

The very watchful parent keeps popping out of the nest when we get too close, and protests very loudly from a branch above our heads... until we back off and give it some distance.




And finally, I have a very special flower to show you... the fawn lily. Such an elegant little beauty.

Commuting to Saturna

Yesterday, like almost every week, I ran errands in Victoria. This involves a ferry trip that can last over two hours each way, counting the stops. I've gotten used to the routine and either join other islanders around a table for some chatting, or I read a book.

But I never forget to take a look around, because I am still in awe of the beauty of this place. This is not an ordinary commute. Sometimes, you can spot otters and seals swimming around. They seem to delight in catching the fish that are spooked by the ferry's wake. Sometimes, if you are really lucky, you can catch a sight of orcas (killer whales) or porpoises, feeding. Very special, those moments. I can count on the fingers of one hand those very special moments, over three years.

In the late afternoon, even the wake of the ferry is a thing of beauty.

Click on the picture at left, and look at the interplay of lights and shadows.

On the shore...

I need to be near water. For a long time when I lived in Ontario, we had a place on a lake, in the Haliburton highlands. I really loved to be at the lake: it was a place to relax and listen to the sound of the water, and the wildlife around it. Of course, there was also human wildlife - the kind that likes two-stroke engines to enhance its natural experience - but on the whole, the time spent at the lake was a delight.

One of the most surprising things about starfish like the one on the left (purple ochre sea star) is their weight. It's always surprising to hold one and marvel at how heavy this creature is. Also, its rough texture is a surprise. Somehow, I thought starfish were slimy (there you go, I come from the middle of North America...). They are not.


Now that I live on the West Coast, I enjoy being near the ocean. Breathing salt air is good for the soul. And salt water seems to generate more drama. There is always something going on: the way the wind works the water surface, the way the tide line moves up and down Plumper Sound -the bit of ocean water between my island, Saturna, and Pender Island - in front of my house... You can watch that line in the water, and the birds that follow it, on the hunt for fish that travel those waters.

The anemones are flower-like, but keep in mind that they are hungry predators. Beautiful killers.

Pink and Yellow: Spring is Here

For the past few weeks, the forest has been very moist, and the mosses that carpet the forest floor have reached a very rich emerald green.

Right now, some very bright colours are beginning to punctuate all that emerald green. Let the spring party begin!

My daily walks through the forest lead me to little treasures... like this Calypso orchid.

And in the -unfenced - front yard, the deer leave the daffodils alone. Must be something in their sap... I am thankful for that.

I live in a beautiful place on the Coast of British Columbia.

For me, everyday day is Discovery Day. I can usually be found walking around (or crawling around) with a camera.

Through this blog, I'll share with you the things that catch my eye. I'll keep the comments brief and let the pictures do the talking.

Andrée