BLOG about PAINTING

New Zealand is very pretty. Here in East Mahurangi, the rolling hills are covered with farms and woods. The view from the kitchen looks northeast across a narrow floodplain towards the an olive grove and fields dotted with sheep.

The place where we are currently house and cat sitting has the most amazing views, so I can't resist painting the skies They've been quite dramatic lately, what with the risk of rain and thunderstorms. Ironically, when it does start to precipitate, the view pretty well disappears behind a curtain of rain. One can no longer see the long, fading blue line of the Olympic Mountains or even any variations in the sky itself - just a monotonous grey cloud cover. So, when I do get the chance, I try to quickly jot down the tumbling cumulus. Here's today's version:

As to the housesit itself, it's more than pleasant. Besides the staggering vista, the house itself is very comfortable, and the kitties are quite delightful. This is our third session taking care of these guys, and each time we leave I miss them more.

View from our housesit in Metchosin

Well, this was the view before the fog rolled in. I don't know what's going on this July. The weather has been cold and damp, and it doesn't feel at all like summer! There's one small upside: We won't find it much of a shock going to the New Zealand winter. In fact, the weather in Aukland has been almost the same as here - and it's their equivalent of January! Ha.

And after the fog rolled back out:

Today having some of the lowest tides of the year, we went out to East Sooke Park to look at critters. This is one of our favourite pastimes, one we indulge at least once a year and much more often if possible. The beach at Aylard Farm is a great place for hunting. You can walk right out onto the hard sand to look at the base of the big boulders that litter the beach, though we also usually end up crawling over the more slippery jumbles of rocks, where there are great rafts of mixed seaweed.

Intertidal organisms are wondrous things. Now, these are plants and animals that are normally living in our icy cold sea water. However, thanks to the changing tides, twice a day they get left high and dry for hours at a time. Since they are exposed to the air and often to blistering sun, they have to be able to withstand great variations in humidity, temperature, and salinity. They have a number of interesting adaptations that allow them to do so.

Some, like the seaweeds, are covered with a layer of slippery gel-like slime that helps them to retain moisture. They have also adapted to losing water and simply re-absorb it when the tide comes back in. Some animals literally clam up: They have have calcareous shells that close up, thus trapping moisture inside. There is great variety in these guys, the gastropods. Some have two halves of shell (clams, mussels, oysters, etc.). Some have one and a half shells (jingle shells). Some have one shell (limpets, which pull the shell down tight against the rock; barnacles whose shell is like a mini-volcano that closes with 'doors' at the top; and, of course, snails and whelks). Some have shells that have devolved into eight plates that run down the back of the animal (chitons). And, finally, some have lost their shells entirely and so have to hide in tidepools or under seaweed to save themselves. These last are the real beauties, the nudibranchs, or 'sea slugs'. (Sea slugs, you say? Yech! Believe me. Google these and savour their amazing beauty.)

We love to look at everything - the seastars, the anemones, the tube worms, the colourful encrusting algae that paint the rock a multitude of hues, the sponges, the barnacles that vary from the tiny ones in the splash zone to the giant barnacles three and four inches in diameter... But our very favourites, the ones we prize above all others, are the nudibranchs. You have to be very persistent and very lucky to find them, and we seldom quit poking around before we have found at least one species.

Today we found three different species: the clown nudibranch (which is white with small, bright orange protuberances), the leopard nudibranch (just like the name suggests - beige with brown spots), and the tiny red Rostanga pulchra, which seldom exceeds 4-5mm in length. What finds!

After we had sated ourselves on the wildlife, I hid out of the wind and did a quick sketch of the seastacks at Creyke Point. I'm embarrassed at how out-of-practice I am at doing these little postcards. I had meant to do lots each day during our travels, but so far, I'm doing far more hiking and reading than painting!

Well, we're back in Metchosin for our last housesit before we head out to New Zealand. We're staying in a lovely house with a fabulous view southeast over the fields and forests to the East entrance of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and the top end of Puget Sound. There are sights closer to home, too. My husband just looked out the window and spotted a couple of bucks (one a three-point) wandering through the yard. Good thing there's a nice high fence around the veggie garden. And I wonder what the cats think of the venison on th hoof...

It has been blowing a gale - literally - an awful lot lately. Today, we had winds up to 37 knots, but last week the westerlies were even worse. Even Metchosiniets were complaining. Constant wind does get wearing after a while. It does mean that my husband can't take the rowboat out, and it doesn't do any favours for my migraines, either. I wonder what it will be like in New Zealand. I tried googling, but all I got were generalities. I did find out that Wellington is very windy. It has almost one day in two with winds of 60 km/hr - about 30 knots. That's one windy place. Mind you, not compared to the Falklands!

We've been revisiting all of our favourite walks while we're here. Tomorrow, we'll probably go out to Iron Mine Bay at the very south end of East Sooke Park. The trails there are wonderful - narrow footpaths skirting the edge of the rocky shore, overlooking tiny islands and hidden beaches. The cliffs are clad in a mix of Douglas-fir and Arbutus, with mossy groves of old-growth cedar hidden away on some of the inland trails. There's a fair amount of upping and downing, which is good for keeping the old pins in shape. (When you're hiking beside the ocean, you're constantly going up and down over small outcrops. You might never get more than 10 -15m above sea level, but the height of the path is always changing. We've done more climbing in the past two months than in the whole three years on Gabriola.)

I'll have to do some sketches to add to the blog...

When we were in Olympic National Park, we had the opportunity to see some VERY big trees.

First of all, there was the 'biggest spruce in the world'. And it was immense! Even with experience of big spruce in Carmanah and other big spruce on the trail to this particular tree, it still stopped me dead in my tracks when I saw it. Apparently, it is over 59 feet in circumference. That's one biiigggg tree. It stood near the shore of Lake Quinault, a giant amongst the salmonberries and other, lesser examples of its species.

We saw other big trees on other trails. There was the big cedar, now but a snag, but with a full-grown hemlock growing out of the remains of its trunk. It, too, dwarfed us - as this sketch of Lawrence shows:

Even at that massive size, it wasn't nearly as big as the Spruce we saw earlier that morning.

However, what I want to comment on is not the overall size of individual trees. There are big trees elsewhere, too. The beauty of Olympic National Park is that most of these magnificent specimens are surrounded by other trees that are almost as big as they are. They exist in an intact old growth forest, an ecosystem that was never destroyed by logging. Yes, individual trees had been harvested, probably 150 years or so ago, judging by the stumps. But the forest was never clearcut or even heavily logged. It has continued to thrive until the present day. Unlike BC, where most parks have been created after the land has been clearcut, somebody set aside this huge piece of land and left it alone for posterity. And this in an age when the forests seemed endless. What foresight! Foresight that the BC government still has not achieved in 2016...

What can I say about Olympic National Park? Alas, I'm not a poet, and my poor efforts at painting the beauty of this place cannot begin to render the wonder of it all. Suffice it to say that we were in awe of the magnificent old growth forests, the pristine beaches, and the freshest air on the planet. We only wished that we could have spent a couple of weeks exploring the trails instead of the barely 24 hours that we had. This wonderful place made up for everything that was so disappointing at Ocean Shores!

We can hardly wait to return - though it will probably be at least a year before we can.

On our way around the Olympic Peninsula, we spent our first night at Ocean Shores. Hmmm.

Let's put it this way. The hotel room was fine, and the price was right. The clouds over the beach were magnificent, and the dunes were pretty nifty with interesting plants such as Beach Myrtle. In an effort to be upbeat, we won't say anything about the cars allowed on the beach, the rip-off dinner, or the 'strip' feel to the town (shades of Panama City Beach).

We went for a stroll along the beach, which is hard, clean, and miles long. The tideline was absolutely littered with the cast shells of Dungeness crabs. In some places, the shells were all quite small, say 5-7 cm. across. In others, they were more than big enough for keepers. There must be quite the crab fishery off this beach! Interestingly, there was little driftwood at the back of the beach. Maybe it's all further north within the park.

The clouds on the horizon were quite awe-inspiring, especially since there were possible thunderstorms in the offing. The surf wasn't that big, but it still created that wonderful, constant roar that you find on open beaches. I've tired to capture the feel of the place.

More tomorrow on the great hikes and beaches of Olympic National Park. Now they blew us away.

While on Vashon, we had the honour and the pleasure of walking Phil's Camino. 'What', you ask, 'is Phil's Camino?'

The short answer would be: Watch the documentary, Phil's Camino. Unfortunately, it is not yet available except at select film festivals. So we need to go to the long answer.

Phil Volker is one Cool Old Guy. A few years back, Phil was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer and began a regimen of heavy duty chemo and other treatments. Now, if Phil were an ordinary guy, he might have hunkered down on his lonesome, feeling sorry for himself. But Phil had heard about the Camino de Santiago, the pilgrimage across Spain that has lured pilgrims for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. In his spiritual searching, he wished that he could walk the Camino to help him deal with his situation. But he couldn't - He was stuck here on Vashon Island, getting chemo every two weeks. No way could he head off to walk across Spain.

Now, Phil is a hands-on kind of guy. So he thought, if he couldn't go to the Camino in Spain, why not bring the Camino to Vashon? And that's what he did. He carved out a trail around his property on Vashon and started to walk his own personal pilgrimage. He kept track of every lap and mapped out his progress against the Camino francés route in Spain. Day by day, he travelled across the Basque territories, the Meseta and Galicia - all on his own 10 acres. It took six months, but he did it! And, as he walked and walked and walked, he grew stronger. And he still longed to do the 'real' Camino in Spain.

He shared his dream with his medical team, They, impressed with his efforts and his fitness, embraced his drearm. They decided that if his scans were really good, he could skip one of the bi-weekly treatments, which would give him a 28-day window in which to go to Spain and actually walk the Camino.

God moves in mysterious ways. Phil's scans were good; He got his window. And off to Spain he went... in the heat of summer, no less. But he did it. Phil walked the Camino. He did the whole peregrino thing, he made it to Santiago, he attended mass in the Cathedral and he got his compostela!

But things didn't end there. Phil came back to Vashon. He came back to his treatments. And he came back to his own personal Camino. Phil's walking it again. He walks four days a week, and he welcomes anyone who wants to walk with him. And there are many. Some are Vashon Islanders who come time and again. Some are one-time visitors who only get to do a circuit or two but who will carry the memory for years. Some, like my husband and I, get to share a few days on Phil's Camino.

I can't begin to describe how wonderful it is to walk around Phil's fields, greeted by gentle horses, impressed by his corn (that the deer are having the audacity to eat), delighted by his woods. and then to sit around his picnic table, sharing tapas with Phil, his lovely wife Rebecca, and the other nifty people who have chosen to walk the walk with this special man.

Word is getting out. People are coming from far and wide to share Phil's Camino. Among them was Annie O'Neil, one of the six people featured in WALKING THE CAMINO; SIX WAYS TO SANTIAGO. She met Phil. She, too, was enchanted by his deep understanding and chose to make a documentary about his journey. It is PHIL'S CAMINO, mentioned at the very beginning of this blog. See http://philscamino.com/.

Yesterday, we travelled into Seattle with newfound friends. We walked on the ferry, then caught the bus to the Arboretum at the University of Washington. And, boy, were we impressed with the entire system!

First of all, it cost us nothing to leave Vashon. (As with the ferry to Gabriola, the fare from the 'mainland' covers your return trip from the island.).

When we arrived in Fauntleroy, we caught the 'C' bus right at the end of the ferry line. Bus fare is a mere $2.50 regardless of the number of zones or how many times you have to transfer buses. The bus was a Rapid-bus and took us downtown in no time at all. There, we hopped off and a few minutes later caught another bus which took us straight to the entrance to the Arboretum.

When it came time to return to Vashon, we hopped back on the bus (another $2.50) and got a transfer. At the city centre switched back to the Rapid-bus using our transfers. Now comes the first nifty bit: Part way there, we got off the bus and made a stopover to sehave a beer and buy some bread. We then proceeded back onto the bus, again using the same transfer. There was no cost for making the stop! (Imagine if you wanted to do that on a BC Transit bus!)

Back at the ferry dock, this time we had to purchase tickets to get back onto Vashon. Fare? As seniors - even non-resident seniors like us - $2.65.

TOTAL TRAVEL TIME: Perhaps two hours for all legs of the journey.

TOTAL COST FOR THE DAY; $7.65 each to go from Vashon to the university and back again. Now here's the kicker. Washington seniors are issued a special card that they can scan into the system at each step of the way. This gives them access to the buses and the ferry for $1 cach leg. So our American friends spent only $3.00 cach for the entire trip. And, actually, they spent only $2 each because the digital card-reader on the bus wasn't working, so they got to ride free.

Now we understand why they hop over to Seattle for all kinds of reasons - to go shopping, to get their hair cut, to go to Mariners' games, etc. - all activities which bring money into the city. Gee, imagine!

Wouldn't it be lovely if BC Transit and BC Ferries could do such a great job of coordinating systems and making it extremely affordable in the process?