My beloved Lone Cone, watching over the harbor.
The village, as we sped away.
Off-the-grid residents of the Sound
live in some extremely cute and funky dwellings.
Spectacular scenery. Everywhere my eyes landed : Beauty! Joy!
A feast for the senses!
At the float, Warren busied himself trying to locate the source of a leak in the bilge,
while Chris tended to her beautiful greenhouse garden.
These two seemed to be trying extra hard to impress-
and they succeeded.
Can you see Mr Bee curled up for a nap inside this daffodil?
My sister calls this shot - "Beaver Creek Visits
Chris calls it "All she needs is a beer."
I call it "All I Need is a Nap!"
So peaceful there, I could have fallen asleep,
listening to the birds,
the bees, and the water softly lapping.
If you look closely, you'll see Warren hauling on the thick rope that fastens the floathouse to a strong branch on shore, to keep it - one hopes - in place during storms. This is a tricky procedure, as Chris had to paddle the boat in and out to deposit him on shore and pick him up after without crashing into the rocks.
Time for another beach walk, once we got home.
We visited the resident carver, whose carving shed
is located in the trees at the north end of Chesterman's,
and had a peek at what he was working on.
That was pretty cool.
I missed the former carver, who died a few years back,
and who was a local treasure.
I felt Pup's presence on Chestermans more than I ever have in Port.
This is the beach we walked on twice daily, for years.
And I felt something else I never feel in Port - pure joy.
One last look, then home for a cider and supper. We were both too tired to return for the sunset
- it was such a full, wonderful day - an adventure that filled my heart. My memory will return to revisit all of these wonderful sights until I can return there again. I told Chris, coming back to Tuff City in the boat, "I am so in love with Clayoquot Sound that I don't need anyone." It has been that way since 1989, when I first set foot in the land that is the home of my spirit.