Walking with Spirit

5 December 2021 — You bet. Spirit with a capital-S.

We’re in Pacific Spirit Regional Park, some 770 hectares of temperate rainforest in the city’s west end, neatly bordered along one edge by the foreshore of Georgia Strait. The network of trails, more than 50 km in all, lets you weave your way through mixed coniferous-deciduous stands of trees, taking in berry bushes, ferns, mosses, lichens and fungi as you go.

And that is exactly what we are doing.

Bark is a wonder, all on its own. Not just texture, but colour. And not just all the subtleties of black and brown, but, look, streaks of turquoise. Lichen is not always grey!

Last yellow leaves of a deciduous tree glow just overhead…

and, not to be outdone, other last-leaves flash bold patterns in the undergrowth.

Great webs of tree roots snake across the ground, tracing the hummocks of the long-buried nurse logs that gave them life.

Then there are the decidedly not-buried nurse logs!

Nurse-stumps like this one, crowned with its own full-grown progeny.

Tiny sprays of vivid fern, beside a fallen log ruffled with equally tiny fungi…

and a huge explosion of fern, so massive, so primordial in mood & presence that I look around for dinosaurs.

Jagged stand-alone stumps…

and the whole entangled dance of the forest: stumps & ferns & leaf mould and, overhead, moss woven around looping tree branches.

Whole entanglements within moss itself…

and the gleam of a boggy rivulet, deep and wide in this wet, wet season.

Enchanted, we follow our trail…

with its bends and twists and guiding stretches of snake fence.

On and on.

And Also

7 January 2020 – Step back, I tell myself; take a break. Step back from newscasts tracking the political unrest rocking one country, whose ripples will eventually and somehow affect every country. Mentally step back from all that and physically step out the door. Take a walk, nowhere special, but with a different focus.

Notice other realities. Not instead of that big-headline reality; just … also.

A tree stump, for example. Not left there to nurture new life, but it’s turned into a nurse-log anyway.

A Chai Wagon, trucked back home after a day of serving customers downtown.

Baby buds on a front-yard shrub, already swelling with spring blossoms.

A nook next to the Sahalli Community Garden, created by its members and available to anyone who’d like to sit and relax for a moment.

I sit and relax. I start to notice the ornaments. Pottery toadstools and a metal insect, wings half-open, behind the companion chair …

glass coasters, piled on the log table between the chairs …

and one of the red overhead lanterns, swinging with the breeze. (Only later do I realize I’ve also caught a dark bird, slicing through the sky just beneath the lantern.)

Down by South China Creek Park, there’s a free exercise station for anyone who’d like to use it …

and a newly created play area for kiddies, very much in use.

None of this is important. It’s just what I happen to see, on this particular walk, at this time, on this day. It does not replace or discount the political reality rightly commanding headlines.

But it does remind me of all the other realities that also make up our world — every moment, everywhere, all entangled and endlessly re-creating what Leonard Cohen so wonderfully described as the “chaos of existence.”

I like that sense of larger context.

  • WALKING… & SEEING

    "Traveller, there is no path. Paths are made by walking" -- Antonio Machado (1875-1939)

    "The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes" -- Marcel Proust (1871-1922)

    "A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities" -- Rebecca Solnit, "Wanderlust: A History of Walking"

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