island walk

click image for enlargement

As I said before, the next day, Jonathan’s mom and I went to Qualicum Bay and spent a few hours doing errands and enjoying a good talk. On our way home, I took over the driving. I would be driving her van while she went over to Vancouver so I wanted to practice with her and get a feel for the roads on the Island. I drove from just outside Parksville to Deep Bay on the Island highway. It was a nice drive and she gave me some useful hints on how to drive this particular vehicle.

After we got home, we had a relaxing afternoon and evening hanging out together.

The next day, she was heading to Vancouver. I offered to drive her down to Nanaimo. I wanted to have a good idea of the roads and the direction we were going when I had to drive Jonathan and I down to the ferry in a few days. We drove down, uneventfully, and it was a nice trip. On the way back, I came up the coastal highway, enjoying the ride with Juneau. We stopped at a grocery store to pick up some special things for dinner (I was making homemade strawberry shortcake for Jonathan) and then drove on in. I was exhausted after the drive, though. Driving someone else’s car is much more stressful than driving your own because you’re always aware that it is theirs and you don’t want to do any damage to something they’ve entrusted with you.

Jonathan and I had a nice evening hanging out. We watched a movie and had a good dinner of baked salmon, salad, and squash soup. While watching the movie, I stretched out, putting my head on Jonathan’s lap. I, of course, fell asleep as I’m known to do whenever I lay down or a movie comes on. During that time, Jonathan played with my hair. I think I was purring. There are few things better than having someone play with my hair. That is such an intimate act to me because I don’t let too many people play with my hair. I loved that. I totally relaxed and enjoyed it.

The next day, we decided to go for a hike with Juneau. He needs to be walked at least twice a day and on this morning, we decided to head out back towards the railroad tracks.

A quick social commentary here: Behind the house, there is a housing development going in. Fifteen houses are being built on a relatively small plot of land. Trees are being clear-cut and the noise levels have gone up quite a bit. In a place that used to feel secluded and private, you are now confronted with bareness. Within the next year, there will be many more people, more lights, more cars, and more noise. It is very disturbing. You feel like you’re out in the middle of nowhere and then you’re not. This development has been held off for fifteen years and Jonathan’s mom did try to buy some of the land to preserve it but was unsuccessful. At this point, there is nothing that can be done but it is still disturbing to see. Since I was there in December, it has changed so much and it makes me incredibly sad. Maybe it’s the shock of seeing so many trees cut down or seeing the orange tags defining where more will be cut. Maybe it is seeing the sky where there once were trees and I know that next time, it will be roof lines. I’m not sure. It just made me sad.

We headed out and pushed through the brush. It was a little chilly and we were bundled up for the day. We came across a couple (with their dog) cutting trees for firewood and then continued on up the dirt road. We came to the top of a hill that had been clearcut. It overlooked the bay and the view was stunning. We contemplated that this was probably going to be developed, as well, because the view would be too much for developers to bypass.

We headed down the hill towards the train tracks. The trees felt so close and the tracks almost looked like they weren’t used at all. There were even little trees growing up in the middle of the tracks but if you looked closely, you would notice that the tops of them were sheared off and thereby know that the tracks were in use.

Little flowers grew up between the rails. Shells were on the grass between the rails. Some of the wood was rotting. It was all a smorgasbord for the senses: textures and colors and depth. Between and around these train tracks an entire micro-world was growing and if you didn’t look carefully, you’d miss it.

Juneau went off into the brush on the sides of the tracks. He would be running along, enjoying whatever was out there, while we walked along the tracks. He would cross over, glance at us, then go off into the brush on the other side. He was always near, though, and we could hear him as we chatted.

The air was crisp and felt good. The walk was gentle and enjoyable. We discussed all kinds of things as we walked along. Occasionally, I’d stop and snap off a couple of pictures. Eventually, we came to a private road that crossed over the tracks. Jonathan sat down, watching Juneau. I took pictures. I was wondering about the trains, though. We had heard a horn earlier but no train had come by. I put my foot on the rail and thought I felt something. I looked up in surprise and just down the track was the train. I jumped off the tracks and Jonathan laughed. I probably looked a bit shocked because I wasn’t expecting the train. As it passed by (all 2 cars of it), the people within smiled and waved at us. It felt like we were so far from the rest of the world and here, in the middle of nowhere, people were waving in such a friendly way. At that moment, I thought, “This is a wonderful place to live.” I was touched by the friendliness and openness that seemed to come through that brief exchange.

We headed up the small dirt road to an overgrown road. It was a paved road that had become overgrown with grasses, trees, ferns, and mosses. We walked back a little ways. I was taking all kinds of macro shots (surprise, surprise!) and Jonathan told me to look up. He said there was an entire world around me that I might be missing. Heh. I took a picture of him pointing up, saying that I saw that world. Heeheehee. Juneau was enjoying the romp through the trees.

We headed back toward the tracks and walked up them a ways. Then I noticed that I had lost my lens cap. Jonathan and I started walking back to see if we could find it. Then Jonathan started running back to the last place we had been. Juneau ran after him. I followed more slowly, looking at the ground as I followed. By the time I caught up to them, neither of us had found it and I was feeling foolish for losing it. We decided to head back to the house, looking for it as we did.

Juneau decided to take off at that point. He went down into an area marked as private property and Jonathan and I both became worried. There had been talk of one of the people around saying they would shoot Juneau if they saw him off of a leash and we didn’t want that to happen to him, especially on our watch. We called to him. Typically, he would come when we called. This time, though, he refused to come. In fact, he ran the opposite way, which was infuriating because we were worried. We thought that if we continued walking, he would come. He didn’t. Then he reappeared and Jonathan went after him. Juneau thought it was a game and took off. We started walking again. At that point, Jonathan found the lens cap (thank goodness!). Then Juneau came up behind us. He was immediately put on the leash because we didn’t want to risk him running off again.

We got home, exhausted, had some lunch and crashed onto the bed for an afternoon nap. The evening was like the one before: dinner, TV, and Jonathan playing with my hair (purr, purr, purr).

The next day, we would be leaving. It would be my last full day in British Columbia and I was already feeling the impending departure.

I was already feeling sad.