Monday, May 1, 2006

Last night the kids and I slept out on the porch. The air was incredibly fresh, borne on northwesterly winds that bring it down the coast from the Gulf of Alaska in the wake of the rain we had on Friday. I find these winds to be cleansing and relaxing, even as they blow fiercely down the Strait. Today, with much free time and a rare day on the island, I simply sank into a deeply happy state. It must be infectious, because I took a wrong call on my office phone and the woman at the other end said, out of the blue "well I'm sorry to have bothered you. I've lived on Bowen for 21 years and I love it anew everyday!" I assured her that, despite only five years on the rock, I shared her sentiment.

This morning we awoke to the strong sounds of the dawn chorus and I drove Finn across the island for a play date, stopping at Bowen Bay beach to pick a few smooth black pieces of siltstone and admire the wind and waves. I am dreaming of snorkelling the rock walls there in a couple of months.

The robins are all paired up, and we are beseiged with flocks of mergansers heading north. The flowers on the salal are coming out now and it looks to be a good year for these as well.

We have removed two ungainly and chewed up ornamental cedar trees from our small garden and replaced them with a lilac tree and a previously potted camillia. These two newcomers are surrounded by fence at the moment and it's anyone's guess if they will survive the curiosity of deer. But we are optimists when it comes to planting things. One has to be if one prefers not to garden amid a gulag in this place.