6 August 2024 — One day all crisp shadows down a local alley…

and the next, off to the “green calming atmosphere” promised in this sign welcoming visitors to Camosun Bog.

The bog is a tiny, boardwalked ecosystem at one north-east knob of sprawling Pacific Spirit Regional Park. I always choose the same entry point: south from West 16th Ave., down one final residential block of Camosun Street.

And here I am. I set foot on that entry stretch of boardwalk, and I am already calm.

Slower of pace, quieter of thought, I duck under an arch of Mountain Ash and walk around the bend beyond…

to pause at what I think of as “The Sentry” — a nurse stump adorned each season with whatever that season and its weather have to offer.

I next pause at the bog itself, now diminishing in the heat of mid-summer from its abundance of early spring.

Then, I follow the boardwalk.

The sphagnum mosses are beginning to bleach, responding to the same heat that shrinks the bog, but there are still bursts of vivid greenery.

Sometimes I need to peer over the inner railing of the boardwalk perimeter…

but any old time, I can just look over the outer railing at the forest beyond.

Loop complete, side trips complete, I retrace my steps to walk back under the arch of Mountain Ash. This time toward sidewalks, pavement, cars and traffic. Lots of grey awaits me. Lots of noise.

I’m not yet ready for West 16th! I walk eastward on quiet residential streets instead.

And I find myself at another tiny enclave of calm.

Right there, across that intersection, under those street-side trees: some Muskoka chairs grouped companionably around a little table.

I cross. I check it out. I discover that, just like the entry sign for Camosun Bog, the table welcomes visitors.

Though with an admonition.

I obey.

I take a seat. And when I depart, I leave the furniture where I found it.