It races through the tree tops. Tumbling through our campsite, it appears so thick that you feel able to grab a handful of the vapour in the tiny clouds. But it’s only fog. Even in the brisk onshore wind it invades like a tumbling army. Then it is gone but only to reappear again without obvious explanation. Pacheedaht Beach, near Port Renfrew, is an indigenous people’s sand beach that curves for a couple of miles along a bit of the North Pacific. Surfers love it in winter. We come here often.
August on the West Coast is dreaded by mariners and aviators for its thick fogs. It can form almost instantly and at times lingers for days, holding everyone in a tight fist. Clear blue overhead, yet a thick grey wall lays over the Strait beyond. Miles out there ships blast their horns as required every few minutes. Those bellows boom over the shore.The open curving horizon calls. This old salt and every fibre within him aches to be back out there again with the pulse of the liquid planet beneath my feet. On shore the lazy crash of summer surf mixes with the sound of happy children and their dogs. Bliss.
Thunder, lightening, rain, frightened dogs under the bed, a certainty of wildfires. Over six hours of crashing delight on Saturday night. It rained heavily, a desperately needed bonus. I grew up in a place famous for vicious thunderstorms but I’ve never seen one that lasted a quarter of a day. Across the South Coast there were over 11,000 lightening strikes! Now we’re back to cloudless skies and late summer warm temperatures. Every year there is a weather event that turns the page from summer to a sense of autumn and here we are, already!
The air is thick with smoke from the three wildfires started during the storm, the afternoon air is thick and sultry. Days like this need to be stored in our memories when the brutal autumn rains are coming sideways. Much like the shit storm from south of the border.
Former presidents are apologizing and explaining why Donny boy is so wrong. American citizenry are embarrassed and begging pardon. The fool is trying to rename Lake Ontario, perhaps reversing the earth’s rotation is next in his considerations. Along history’s path, to be allied with a good neighbour has always been a good thing. We’ve been at it for a very long time. Now we are blessed and cursed to live at the same time as the biggest fool the planet has ever known. Oora! From the shores of Lake Amurica…..I am so happy to stay hidden away on my little island.
This has been a year when there is a constant watch on the likes of Clint and Willy. They are icons of our culture and each hold a piece of nearly everyone’s hearts. In the middle of that old Dolly quietly jiggled her way out the back door. I am not one for the rhinestone cowboy culture but Dolly wrote and sang her way over it all, was a determined philanthropist and a treasured personality. I, for one, will miss her wireless ebulence and simple raw talent.
And so I stumble on into September. There is a vague promise of rain. Cooler temperatures have arrived. It’s a nice time of year in this wonderful corner of the planet. It is drizzling out as I write. Tomorrow will dawn fresh and bright.
“Should I ever make it to heaven and discover that there are no dogs, I shall ask to be sent where they go.” Will Rogers