Election Day

The dull light above my desk at mid-afternoon. The ceiling is  white but not today. I actually built this skylight, it was just blank ceiling before. What a job!

It has bucketed rain all day; a steady, splattering, cold soaking rain. I am happy to not be sleeping under a bridge today. Jack, in his primal wisdom, stowed several bowels of food yesterday and has retreated into hibernation as the deluge continues. The rain drums on the skylight above my desk, echoing down through the light shaft, muffled, it seems, by the grudging grey light sieving through the thick low clouds. Kept inside by the weather, I salvaged yet-to-be-used video clips and put them together in a stew of vague continuity.

Here’s the result. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jQtJ2j-74A

I marvel that a year ago it took me several weeks to finally upload my first video. When I watch it now I am surprised at how good it is for a first effort despite some very obvious flaws. Onwards and sideways, that’s the life for me. Someday, I’ll be able to take some lessons and afford better equipment but for the meantime I am enjoying the challenges of learning more about this very challenging art. Here are some local photos from the last few days. It is election day and I hope, my fellow Canadians, that you have got your soggy bottoms out there and voted. Eh!

Aldergeist revisited. I named this tree years ago for, what to me, is a screaming mouth with dark eyes. It remains a landmark.
NOT overhead baggage. This monster was purchased by my father when he emigrated from England to Canada in 1948. I believe all he owned was packed inside. In the tedium of this dull day I extracted it from storage and repaired a hinge, a first repair. Not bad after 70 years. The Cunard White Star line once owned the ‘Titanic.’
The edge. A moment later, a beaver swam by.
Into the woods they went, over the bridge and up the hill never to be seen again.
Arbutus wet. Even in the dull morning light, these trees seem to glow. They are a favourite for me.
A jungle stream. You think not? Try walking in there!
Texture! A toadstool with attitude.
On top of his world. It was wet and slimy but he did his best.
Going down the tube. These twin wooden pipes are over four feet in diameter. They supply water to a local pulp mill.
‘Cutty Sark’ my obligatory nautical photo for this blog. This was taken in Greenwich on Millenium Christmas. The vessel has since burned and been rebuilt. Wandering her decks was a deeply spiritual experience for me. I ache to return. Chichester’s ‘Gipsy Moth IV’ is also displayed here.

“Every election is a sort of advance auction sale of stolen goods.”

H. L. Mencke

(PS:  It’s still raining… only six months till spring.)

Author: Fred Bailey

Fred is a slightly-past middle age sailor / writer / photographer with plenty of eclectic hands-on skills and experiences. Some would describe him as the old hippy who doesn't know the war is over. He is certainly reluctant to grow up and readily admits to being the eternal dreamer. He has written several books including two novels, 'The Keeper' and 'Storm Ecstasy,' as well as 'The Water Rushing By', 'Sins Of The Fathers', 'The Magic Stick', as well as an extensive inventory of poetry, essays, short stories, anecdotes and photographs. His first passion is the ocean, sailboats, voyaging and all those people who are similarly drawn to the sea. He lives aboard 'Seafire' the boat he is refitting to go voyaging, exploring new horizons both inner and outer. This blog is about that voyage and the preparations for it. In spite of the odds against it, the plan is to sail away this fall and lay a course southward. If you follow this blog your interest may provide some of the energy that helps fuel the journey. Namaste Contact him at svpaxboat@gmail.com

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