All in An Afternoon

You can cover a lot of ground on a tiny, speck of an island, nestled in British Columbia’s Georgia Strait. One round-trip traverse found us at a lake, that led to a forest, where we found an abandoned cabin just a mile from the sea.

In our home on Hawaii, we see jungle, shells, and sea life every day, but these were all of a different clime. So interesting and beautiful!

I’ve got a real-live scrapbook in hand, making a collage of this recent summer trip. These photos are part of the archival sort. Just a little more from the BC Scrapbook.


2014-08-29_forest path


2014-08-29_red leaf

2014-08-29_G shell

2014-08-29_red starfish

Roadside Attractions

More from the BC Scrapbook…

From a remote gulf island where about 1,200, self-reliant, human inhabitants enjoy summer gardens, blackberry pie, sunset picnics, and a good laugh.


Keeping it all in perspective.

2014-08-28_highview drive


Rest a spell, just right there, on the side of the road.

2014-08-28_blue chair


Last public washroom on the trail to the village.

2014-08-28_washroom sign

Sample from the BC Scrapbook

Though I’m home from summer adventure, I’m still reflecting back on our family’s recent travels. Our time in British Columbia was especially dear to me, as I was returning to that land after 17 years.

I was 23 years old when I sailed away from one of BC’s remote islands in the Georgia Strait. A piece of my heart was left imbedded in the forest there. Tucked in the loam, surrounded by Arbutus, lapped by the calm sea that sheltered purple starfish and white swans. While my subsequent years may have been graced in paradise, BC has always gently tugged my tethered heart.

Returning was a dream-come-true. Being accompanied by my husband and ten-year old son was meaningful, as they both are my life’s dreams, made real.

It was a reflection on time. What changes, and what stays the same.

I discovered that there still exists hotels with real room keys.
Beach finds can include a magnifying glass, just in case you weren’t looking closely enough.
And feathers abound on small islands, floating freely, without name, until you try to label them.

Here’s a sample from the BC Scrapbook.





Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,825 other followers

%d bloggers like this: