This morning as I sat on my porch at 530 am I was floating, along the vernacular of memory, musing back to a couple of years ago, this same time of year, when I was working at a cafe on Salt spring island.
Saltspring is a magical place. There simply are no other words..
A haven for the elite, who private jet in and live in coastal homes in its wilderness, the artistic community, the back to the earthers..
A mix of those who have, and those who have of spirit. And given the dress code on saltspring there’s no telling whose who, except for talk..
I would get up at 4 am, and then walk along a country lane to the cafe in Ganges, and be the first topen , set out the heavy iron deck chairs, fill and prepare the urns for the 7 am onslought, sweep, and dance to the music.
Invariably the same old gentleman, a crusty sea captain, age indeterminable, looked to be somewhere in the vicinity of 300 years old, with twinking sea blazed eyes, would be there waiting,
“what took you so long?”
We would laugh.
I enjoy dawn, always have, the solitude of setting up solo, the physical quality of the work,…wonderful..
I miss Saltspring, it is a pleasant nostalgia, enter via the ferry to Fulford harbor, and you know you have just somehow slipped the portal to Somewhere Else, one of those places on earth that defy the norms..
Islanders are friendly the globe over, something about island living, and being island bred myself I took to it with joyful glee.
Exit via the ferry at Vesuvius, and you see the huge old tree, debarked and sculptural..a form straight from greek mythology..
Ferry travel is my favorite, I love the pace of it, one shore disappearing, another emerging, the waters between. My time spent island hopping off the BC coast , solo, and in control of my own timetable was a precious sanctuary in time..
Topography shapes your soul, I was raised an islander, lived on the coast, have woke many mornings to the laughing Atlantic..the Pacific’s another creature.
The Atlantic will always be Neptune to me, the pacific, the goddess Venus..
Tourist season is approaching and there will be tragically missteps on our rocky beaches leading to drownings, the Atlantic gives and he takes..
and we mourn, and we respect..the sheer power of it..
and missive by message in a green glass bottle? Timeless..