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.




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