North, through the mountains, to the sea.

Four hours north of home, the snow crusted mountain tops are at eye level as we three co-workers drive by, our goal is a motor inn in the town of Port McNeil. The sun is brilliant and we think we can see a gold tinge to it. Maybe just our hope that spring is springing. Maybe not.

We will meet up with two other vans full of co-workers, but for now we are about three hours ahead of them.  We separate to our rooms and for me, a walk is a necessity since I’ve just spent three miserable days full of some unknown virus and four hours in a heated vehicle.

I need fresh air!

Port McNeil is tiny. Most homes can either see the ocean or at least hear/smell it. My walk takes me down to the docks, then along past a wee ferry that travels across a narrow inlet to Commorant Island and the village of Alert Bay.

The wash from the ferry’s departure creates small waves that rush themselves toward the rocky shoreline where they crash with a foamy frenzy.

How I’ve missed that sound. it feels like I’ve been wallowing in winter gloom for months and months. I’ve not visited the shore for so long and now, here, it fills me with a sense of lagom – a swedish word to describe ‘just right, just enough’. And, God, even if I am four hours away from home, I am again at home.

Speaking of God, or with God, if you prefer – during the drive through the mountains I found myself thanking the one who created it all, who created this world that is a wonder of such natural (to quote Koosje Koene) ‘awesome art’ and at the same time apologising for our messy finger-painting splashed across so much of it.

We humans must get out of our kindergarten brain when it comes to care of the world that grows us.

Ciao for now



  1. writeknit Said:

    Beautifully said my friend.


    • Most kind of you to say so.
      I working on myself – to get back into other writings. I’m finding my old character-friends are becoming nuisances, in that they won’t stop chattering. So, either I get back to writing them out or I become one of those poor souls who wander around chattering in different voices . . .


  2. Oh how I wish I was there with you right now. As long as you don’t share that virus. Just got over my own thing. Being by the sea is the one thing that will ground us like no other. A walk in nature is the most restorative thing you can do. I hope you get a few more of those in before you have to leave there. Wishing you well and grounded again.


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