Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Postcards from Home

I'm here!  I've been on the go since I last checked in but I've now settled into the old homestead in North Vancouver so have some time to send out a postcard or two.  Today was gloriously sunny and I took one of my favourite walks, to Deep Cove, about a half hour's saunter from the house.

Hands up how many of you recognize this scene?  I photograph it every time I pay a visit home.  Unless it's pouring rain, that is, which is quite common.  Funny that I still think of Vancouver as home though I've been living out east for about 25 years.  When I see the mountains and the sea and feel the dampness in the air it just feels "homish" to me.  Alas, I am now but a visitor to these parts. 

Because I haven't lived here in so many years, there are things that I'm unfamiliar with mixed in with the comforting sights.  When I started off down the path in the picture above, I believed I was embarking on a shortcut home.  I've strolled along it before but today I discovered new connections to it that led me through a quite densely forested area, along a nicely paved path that I'd never explored.  As with many shortcuts we take in life, it proved full of unexpected detours and worrying sections where I wondered if I was still going in the right direction, or if someone was going to jump out and threaten me, or if I would even end up where I had hoped to be. 

But with shortcuts and detours along one's path, pleasant surprises can often pop out at you.  Although I emerged at a point that was still a good climb away from my destination, I was rewarded with another lovely, typically west coast view. 

There you go, my dears--postcards from home.  There will be more, I promise.  I'll try to keep in touch with you a little more regularly now that I have a homebase with easy internet access.  However, I'm working from my mother's computer and it doesn't have all the bells and whistles I'm used to, making even the resizing of my ginormous photo files problematic.  Please don't give up on me!

I'll be back around to visit and check up on what you've been up to soon, soon.


  1. beautiful photos - I have to visit that part of the world

  2. You have gone to a gorgeous part of Canada.. no wonder my daughter went there and refuses to move back home..

    .. and I also want to add Thank you for the fabulous card when you visited.. The man whos memory seems to be missing finally remembered it and showed me.. I Love it...Did you make it.. it surely looks hand done..

  3. Lulu LaBonne,
    I'm sure you could support your visit quite nicely here with some of your in-house culinary catering skills. The British accent and bikini uniform would also contribute considerably to your hireability.

  4. Gwen,
    It is lovely out here...but so are the Maritimes out east, just in a different way. I'm not taking pictures of urban sprawl or strip malls, or drug addicts on Hastings St., etc. Where I'm staying is, admittedly, in one of the priciest areas of Canada. And I breathe it in and soak it up as much as I can while I'm out here.

    And yes, I did make that little business card I gave your memory-challenged partner. I made a whole sheet of collage on watercolour paper and then cut it up to make mini artworks. I'm glad you like it.

  5. Priceless ! Thank you for lifing up and away. Must be indeed amazing to live, to breath at such a place.

    Leaving, admit it's rather 'escaping' in a few hours towards Germany for four days, I'd like to wish you a peaceful Friday, weekend as well.

    daily athens

  6. Robert,
    I guess I'll just miss wishing you a bon voyage...but nevertheless, I do.

    An escape is sometimes necessary to relieve pressure, like steam that's been building up. As they say, a change is as good as a cure. Or at least it provides a good panacea.

  7. I know the homish feeling. I was last on the West coast in February 2007. Walking out of the airport in Victoria on a cool sunny morning I watched an eagle land in an adjacent field. There was a real feeling of homecoming despite having been away for 28 years. I was not born on the West Coast but it was a place of my coming of age, experiencing life and making many of the decisions that determined who I would be in the intervening decades.

    Deep Cove looks as beautiful as I remember it.

  8. DCW,
    Lovely and surprising to be able to share this feeling of home with you. I've only flown into/out of Victoria once and loved the experience. The airport is so small and welcoming and uncomplicated; the setting in the fields of the countryside just lovely. The towering cedar trees, lofty mountains, and unabashed constant myriad greens of the forests offset against the pewter, if not always blue, skies seem to feed the soul. My roots go deep here, and it seems that yours took hold when replanted on this coast as well.

  9. The only thing you didn't say, which is nearly obligatory on any postcard is : Wish you were here...


    But that's ok... a little solitude is nice too...

  10. BrOwen,
    Well now, your comment certainly opens up a kettle of fish, albeit west coast wild salmon, for me. As much as I enjoy your virtual company and edited commentaries (it's not total stream of unconsciousness, is it, Owen?)...having never met you in person, perhaps you would not be the best brotherly companion to stroll with along the quiet forest floor. And, never having met, I imagine we would have much to say and many questions to ask, and a certain giggly awkwardness that might make the moment a little too edgy for comfort or untrammelled enjoyment of the passing scenery. Nevertheless, putting all those hesitations aside, I could indeed say, "wish you were here." Or at least that you might be sitting at a table with the MIA Sagittarian in the nearby Raven Pub, enjoying a local cider and salmon burger, waiting for me to stroll in, smelling of cedar and damp grey air from my neighbourhood walk. But, truth to tell, dear brother, you are with me, whether you realize it or not.

  11. Anonymous,
    Did you actually read it all or are you referring to the deep sleep it induced?

  12. zzzzzzzzzzzzz






  13. Dear Sis,
    You're probably right, you may find my uncontrollable bouts of croaking rather irritating, and my slovenly toad habits infuriating, and my hopping about, leaping at flies quite annoying, going snicker snack most frumiously, yes, the whiffling through the tulgey woods might quite upset you, indeed the gyring and gimbling could clear irate you... so, perhaps a safe distance of a few thousand kilometres is best, some galumphing and burbling Jubjub birds are best imagined rather than seen at close range; if one can hear their song in the woods without having to behold their mimsy borograves, that is certainly the best of all possible worlds.

    Still, those sailboats looked very tempting indeed, and the water calm... no manxome foes to fear from under the Tumtum trees when one is far out on the water, sipping champagne...

    Galumphing off into the distance...

  14. Anonymous,
    I KNEW it! You just say things are deep so that you seem deep, don't you. (Sorry if I woke you)

  15. BrOwen,
    I must admit to a fondness for mimsy borograves.

  16. It looks lovely. Reminds me of why I loved visiting Vancouver umpteen years ago.

  17. Madame DeFarge,
    Umpteen years ago, you say? My god, we were in the same place at the same time! If only we'd known.

  18. Hey wait two always stalk off with your galumphing and mimsyness, leaving me to try and catch up!!
    Ok, I'll wait for you by that pub you were talking about....

  19. Saj,
    It's not my fault if you fell asleep in the closet and got left behind.