JULY DAY

  ( JULY By Elizabeth Barrett Browning) ( Oh yes, I've been reading again..... with Spencer on the porch. He sleeps thru most of it.)

 The little cares that fretted me, I lost them yesterday
                                                                 Among the fields above the sea....

                               Among the winds at play......

                                   

                                      Among the lowing of the herds.....

(Concord Grapes for wine)

                                                                The rustling of the trees.......

            Among the singing of the birds, and the humming of the bees.

                                                          

                                         The foolish fears of what may happen.....

(Cordelia snoozing on steps)

                         I cast them all away..................

         Aong the clover-scented grass.................

                                                                           Among the new mown hay................ ( Plums drooping)
                                                             Among the husking of the corn................

 ( Smokey nods)

             Where drowsy poppies nod................

                                                          Where ill thoughts die....

(Sweet peas)

                                                    ..................and good are born.................

 

                                                  ....Out in...........

                                        .....................the fields of God.

                                  (Spencer still on his chair while the sun starts going down.  )

FROM the SPIT

 In 1792, Captain Vancouver navigated these waters. He landed on Quadra island ( the right in the photograph) , which he named.Hewas so happy with the area that he decided to name a few more things, like the passage. He called it Discovery Passage.  First Nations people lived here peacefully  fishing in small communities.

 They lived and fished the salmon  ( K' u ta ' la) in the passage.

                                          

In 1778 Captain James Cook landed at Friendly Cove in Nootka Sound. By the 1880's there were many settlers who made this area  of Campbell River their permanent residence. All due to the salmon.It became a source of commercial livelhood and  the salmon fishing tourist was born.

 
 First Nations people became guides to those who came to fish on the shores of Tyee Spit. The Tyee Club was formed . They are still taking memberships to this day. You have to fish from a rowboat with a reel.....and try and catch a 30 pound Chinook.

In 1911 Strathcona Provincial Park was established.It was the first of the provincial parks. It protects over 250,000 hectares ( 600,000 acres)

      
 The Bald Eagle, (Haliaeetus Leucocephalus) is only one of over 150 bird species that live here.The  nests are in the arms of one of the tallest trees, closest to a food source. It's said that most eagles can live up to 50 years of age, and they mate for life. The day we were down at the spit, I saw tons of eagles fishing. Lots of young ones, with huge wing spans, swooping,sweeping, screeching......

     The Kwakwala word for Eagle is "Kwikw". In this part of the world, the Eagle is thought to be a leader of all wild things . He watches and protects .
   
 Across from the Spit is Quadra Island, and short ferry ride from Campbell River...............
                    ........Or you can hop on a float plane and experience the islands from the air. (I think I'll pass on that one)
 
 If you drive 1 1/2 hours north of Campbell River, you will hit Gold River, a town that popped up in 1965, during the days that the pulp mill appeared. From Gold River, you can also take a coastal ferry/freighter to Yuqot ( Friendly Cove). Tahsis ( pop over 800?) or Kyyquat ( pop 275?)( by last check of my info). This is where Captain James Cook showed up in 1778.

 "He clasps the crag with crooked hands, close to the sun in lonely lands, ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls. He watches from his mountain walls, and like a thunderbolt he falls" (The Eagle, Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

WONDERFUL THINGS

 So many things. Sweet Peas. First ones. Scented like summer. My favourite thing of summer.

       

Cats that flop. Cats that like Sweet peas............

    .....a lot. Pye's true love. She will snuffle more bouquets of sweet peas as summer wears on. She pulls them out of the vase. One by one. And I will systematically replace them.

                                 Then there's a Spencer that flops.

 A Penguin that sits. Pots that pop.

                        And roses that are beautiful.

                               In the shade, bells of blue.

                                Mists of fog on a cool day. Foghorn sounding. A reminder that fall is coming not long from now. Gives way to muggy steam.

                  And the tall Vebascum towers over all.

                                               And cats who grace you .

 Sweet peas on massive stalks.Popping like popcporn.

                                     Cats who wait. Cats who don't want to wait. But have to.

                                    

           And by the end of the day, the fog has lifted, the foghorn stops its din, and the cement is warm. And Smokey rolls.  Happy in  this world of wonderful things.........

DAY of the PENGUIN

              Hello. Must be Penguin's day. He looks for snack. Early one morning. When the sun is up before most birds. He is sedate. He walks a little stiffly. Arthritis setting into his joints. He stretches in the sun.

                                    

                He likes to sit on the porch. To survey. What to do today.  Maybe just sit. And think.
                                              What DO cats think about? I wonder.

                                                     

                         He's pretty quiet. Nice cat. Seems very happy with his life.

           Hot summer day. It's good to sit on cool cement before the heat starts.
                                                       His head nods in the heat. Watching the roses bloom.
                                         
  Maybe he wonders if  the Trail is clear. The Cat Trail. Between houses. Worn into the grass. Winter thru Summer. It is there. Grooved  by paws. It is well maintained.Well used.....

\

   Except by Cordelia. She'd rather sniff sweet peas.                  Or lemonade roses.

    Spencer guards the trail. He  rolls in it. In the sun. On a lazy summer day.
                                                   Unaware that Penguin may be waiting to use it.

   The trail is blocked by Spencer. Penguin sits in the sun. Debates. Smokey blocks the other way. Penguin is older. Probably wiser. Not too worried by these young ones.  Penguin ignores their romps around him. Penguin sits and contemplates what he will do. His head nods again.

    Time to head over the fence. Through the sun. Head home. Slow,measured steps.

  On a beautiful summer day that is quiet. A day for Penguin.  Just the bees and the cats, flopping on cement.  With dreams of days to come.......