The Forest in Spring

 

Spring has never been a favourite season. Too capricious, and rather deceptive. The bright sunshine on my head warms me, but the sharp wind off the ocean drives to the bone. However, I am beginning to like Spring more and more. I love the colours after a winter of brown and green, and the way life springs in every corner.

Come to the woods, for here is rest.

There is no repose like that of the deep green woods.

Sleep in forgetfulness of all ill.

John Muir

Tim and I took a few days away camping in our trailer/caravan about midway up Vancouver Island. All around our site, low to the forest floor, bloomed hundreds of pink Fawn Lilies (erythronium revoltum). It's generally the pale white ones I see here, so to be surrounded by the pink variety was such a treat. I recently learned that they are categorized separately with the white ones labeled erythronium oregonum. They were everywhere on our hikes, pink stars against the green. 

And then there were the Western Trilliums (trillium ovatum), less prolific, growing singly or in clumps of two or three. The Western Trillium takes 15 years before blooming, and if the flowers are picked, the process must begin again. Their season is short, and has almost finished, so I was glad to see so many. 

Forests are like churches, hallowed places.

There is a stillness about them,

a sort of reverence.

Sabrina Elkins

Beavers are so effective at their work, reclaiming abandoned fields with their dams. Beyond the beaver house in the photo the land is mostly dry, but the line of the dam creates a pool for fishing and swimming. My husband's grandparents once owned a farm further north, and after they passed, the fields were neglected and the beavers moved in, creating wetlands that support many species. 

Western Skunk Cabbage  (lysichiton americanus) 

If you walk in the woods, you might start to smell something rather odd. Some liken it to marijuana, but most find it reminds them of skunk scent. Then you see it, a bright yellow plant growing in swamps and damp patches in the forest. The flowers are on the tall stalk protected by the showy curved spadix. 

A patch this large can throw off quite a strong scent, attracting insects and pollinators. 

As is the case with many camping trips, there was one very rainy day. After a cozy and leisurely breakfast we explored in our vehicle rather than on foot, driving to the end of the Muchalat Inlet, just past the small town of Gold River. Enroute, waterfall after waterfall gushed from the steep canyon walls down beside the roadway. The falls seen above left passed under the road into the river below via a large culvert. 

And here is a video of the top of the falls. How noisy it was. 

Another noisy sound was this Red-breasted Sapsucker tapping furiously on a metal sign. They do this, not for food, but to communicate and establish boundaries. Perhaps, being Spring, this bird was looking for a mate. 

We've been home again for a few days, catching up on the tasks of everyday life. I'll leave you with one more image of one of the shy wonders of the forest, elegant and short-lived, but so admired. 

Road Trip #2: Elk Falls and Sayward

Vancouver Island is 460km (284 mi) long, and is about 32,000 square kilometres. (In comparison, Wales is about 21,000 square km.) Most of its 800,000 or so residents live in the southern half of the island. We've lived here for 16 years and have never traveled far "up Island" as the locals say. 

Before I was asked to go to Mexico with the school, Tim and I planned a little vacation up Island. After I returned from my trip, I spent one day doing laundry and catching up before we left again. I did not drive!

Our first stop was just before the town of Campbell River, to visit Elk Falls. Thundering water rushes and falls steeply, creating a mist that one could almost shower under. Elk Falls is also the site of a hydro-electric project providing electricity for the Island. I was amazed to see that the pipes carrying water from the lake above the falls to the hydro plant were made of wood! Long boards are banded every 6-8 inches with metal cords for 1.8 kilometres. Completed in 1947, the pipes are going to be replaced soon with an underground system.
  

There is a wonderful trail system along the Campbell River, including a suspension bridge for viewing Elk Falls and a dizzying platform that extends over the falls. Skunk cabbage is in bloom these days, brightly visible and unmistakably odorous, as well. 

A few salmon berry bushes showed early blooms and unfurling leaves.

Robins are everywhere these days. They run around in packs, landing to feed wherever they can before heading further north. 

As we followed the trail downwards, turbulent water quieted to calm. 

We spent one night in the town of Campbell River, and enjoyed a very good Greek meal at a local restaurant. The next day was rainy. We drove to Sayward and Kelsey Bay, two adjoining very small communities where logging and fishing are the main industries. 

Three of these little yellow tugboats pushed heavy logs and log booms around in the water, reminding me of dogs corralling sheep. They spun and twirled, danced and bobbed expertly.

A friend recommended the Cable House Cafe, a unique building wrapped in old logging cables. We stopped to take a closer look at the building, but the cafe was still closed for the season. 

There is so much abandoned equipment in the forests here - even in remote, boat access only, areas. On our boat travels, we often find the forest swallowing up tractors, cables, spare parts and more. It's probably more economical to leave stuff from a logging show there than to pack it out. I console myself with the fact that most of it is metal and wood and will eventually break down, unlike plastic. 

Our next stop was Port McNeill, where we stayed 3 nights in a lovely AirBnB overlooking the water. We watched ferries go back and forth (this one needs a clean-up) and admired the snowy mountain peaks of the mainland Coast range.

In my next post I'll tell you about two very different islands we visited, via the ferry seen above. 

Meanwhile, here's a bit of forsythia in the rain, from my garden today.

  
How is spring coming along in your corner?