It’s well past Labour Day now and summer is by any stretch, over and done with. What a fantastic summer this was, for some of us, at any rate. It seemed at times that it was endless, July weather starting early May, but of course that was not to be.
The change when it came was sudden and extreme. The rain returned, finally, after months of dryness. Of course Mother Nature couldn’t just send the wet, she also had to send a huge windstorm with it that felled those parched trees and wiped out power to hundreds of thousands over on the mainland (Vancouver). Over here we were fine. Just the rain – the very much welcome rain.
Water use restrictions were in effect at one level or another for many months. In the next town, which is on a different, more precarious, water system from ours, outdoor watering was prohibited all summer, and in some parts the trees were very obviously under stress, and some I noticed look to be on their last gasp. In our own garden, it was a constant struggle to keep newly planted trees and shrubs, plus all the pots, hydrated by hand watering but we managed and in the process I made a few changes – a bit of a cull. Reduced the fuchsias from 40 to 35 (big wow).
The danger of fire was very real – a huge forest fire season. Our friends on Anarchist Mountain in south Okanagan who we visited last October (Road Trip), told us they were in the middle of 5 different fires and had their things all packed and ready to go, should it become necessary (that would include their 2 horses). Although there were fires out here on the coast, we were never anywhere close to that kind of danger although at one point the town felt they needed to do something and even closed the trail in “our” forest at the end of the street for awhile. I’m sure that roll of yellow plastic tape across the trail’s entrance doesn’t deter some, and I can’t help but think that those of us who walk the forest regularly provide early detection eyes, ears and nose, to fire problems – however, people being people (assholes) the morning of the day they closed the trail (before closing) I was in there and spotted a number of fresh cigarette butts on those dry, dry pathways, so who knows what’s safer.
My memories of this long long summer are of real peace and quiet for the most part. A few visitors, a few road trips but mostly living in the garden, reclining and watching the birds and the bees. Easily amused these days, doesn’t take much. My first clue that summer was fading was when finally I no longer sat outside after dinner, reading and watching the clouds and sky changing colour to fade-out, marveling at a Blue Moon (the second full moon of a month – July) making its way across the sky. Eventually earlier and earlier it became too dim to read and a chill descended with the darkening sky, forcing me inside. Last night I stepped out to The Bunkie patio to smell the brugmansias, the Angel Trumpets, whose huge yellow flowers become heaven scented when the sun goes down. I wonder what pollinators they want to attract at night. All I can see, or see evidence of, are snails, slugs and earwigs, which make a mess of the leaves but leave the flowers alone. I didn’t last long out there. It was only 7:30 and it was freezing. 12C. Time to retire the flip flops.
In July, in warmer times, Number One Son, Steve came to visit with Kate and the four of us took off across the island to Tofino, where I’d found a fantastic vacation rental house with killer views. Once again I hired a boat (and Captain) to take us way back around the islands and through the inlets, past the fish farms, to visit Freedom Cove, where artists Wayne and Catherine live in an art installation of a home, off-grid, off-land on a collection of float buildings. In addition to their house, studios and out buildings, the floats support a huge garden where they grow all their own fruit and vegetables year round. Since we were there last with Mike a couple of years ago (tales and pictures here), they had built a fine new gallery building replacing a candle workshop that had been destroyed by fire. I can only imagine what a horror show that must have been – fire on this isolated compound.
One day during this Endless Summer, speaking of which, I listened to my entire Beach Boys collection of songs, a real blast from the past. One in particular, I hadn’t heard in a million years – Kiss Me Baby. It made me sigh aloud, the most beautiful melody, those most distinctive harmonies, and Brian Wilson’s oh so personal ballads – teenage angst, which even I remember all these many years ago. Gorgeous. It got me thinking, and the next time I descended on our local used CD store, a favorite browsing spot, I picked up a copy of Brian Wilson’s latest. I hadn’t paid any attention to what he’s been doing lately, or indeed since he regained life after bathrobe, but thought it might be interesting to find out. Well, he’s still in fine pop form – melodies and harmonies, along with a younger generation of musicians.
My Endless Summer may have ended but I’m not displeased. I may not be living outside all day, every day, but there’s lots more outdoor time to come as I put the fuchsias to bed in The GreenHouse and enjoy the fall fresh air. Meanwhile I’m back hanging out in The Bunkie Studio with a bunch of creative projects ahead to be excited about and a lot of new (and old) music to listen to, with 6 new troll dolls to keep me company – a summer flea market find. 5 bucks – clearly the vendor didn’t know what they had – mint condition, untouched by a child’s hand, the former owner clearly a nutcase collector like me.
Life is real fine.