October Daily 30:

 

View from the restaurant, overlooking Saanich Inlet on a misty wet day.

Rain began in the night and fell steadily most of the day. No one is complaining for we can almost hear the trees sigh in relief and the earth slurp up the moisture. Tim and I enjoyed lunch overlooking Saanich Inlet - he had pizza and I had a burger and fries, a rare treat. 

We brought along our raincoats and waterproof shoes to hike around Goldstream Park on the way home. Above is a view of the end of Saanich Inlet, where Goldstream River joins the sea. 

Mallard ducks and Canada Geese paddled slowly in the rain, and gulls lined up along the shore in strict formation. 

Goldstream River provides spawning grounds for salmon. This year, because of the prolonged drought, the rivers are too low for the salmon to enter. The salmon are resting in the inlet, waiting for enough water to swim upstream, lay their eggs, and die. We did see a few salmon that made it, and there are hopes that with all the rain the streams will benefit, and the salmon will be able to complete their life cycle and lay eggs for the future. 

A short walk through a dripping forest of huge cedar and maple trees to this waterfall, also suffering from the lack of rain. 

Golden maple leaves fell slowly, one by one, and now so many of them carpet the paths and forest floor. Freshly fallen leaves look so bright and golden before fading to brown. 

Some leaves floated down the river, twisting this way and that before succumbing to the weight of the water and rain to sink. 

Goldstream River is in a narrow valley hemmed in by mountains and covered with trees that keep it shaded year round. 

As we were getting ready to leave, a Blue Heron flew above the river, banking and tilting his wings above the water. He landed in a little backwater, quite well hidden from the trail. I followed its progress in the air and was very happy to discover its hiding place. 

We came home, changed into dry clothing and spent the rest of the day indoors. 

It was a lovely day, made even more special by being my birthday. I spoke with all my children and my parents, and we will have a family party next weekend when three of us, my eldest daughter, my daughter-in-law, and I will be the ones feted. 

Celebrating in the Woods

 

Regular readers might remember that we'd planned an outdoor Thanksgiving get together a couple of weeks ago that was rained out. Everyone had been so looking forward to it, so we planned a similar event to celebrate the three October/November birthdays in the family. 

Goldstream Park is nestled in a narrow valley at the head of the Saanich Inlet. The park is particularly popular in the autumn when the salmon spawn. Lots of cars filled the parking lot, but after arriving around 2:30, we had to wait just a few moments until someone left.

In the deeply shaded park little sun penetrated to warm us up, and we were very glad for layers of clothing including gloves and hats. 

In the river salmon swam upstream, laying their eggs where they themselves had once hatched. Gulls circled and watched for fish to weaken and die, pulling them onto sandy banks to feed on them. I didn't see bald eagles yesterday, but later they will come to gorge themselves on the dying salmon. It's an interesting and not-very-pretty part of the cycle of nature. 

A pair of Stellar's Jays flitted in the trees near our camp set up, perhaps looking for a treat to steal. They are notoriously greedy birds. 

Also very interested in our picnic was a curious squirrel. He finally decided there was too much commotion for him to steal a treat and scampered off elsewhere. 

Many of the trees here are cedar, but there are huge maple trees as well that carpet the forest floor with leaves, slowly decomposing to add nutrients to the soil. 

It was a casual gathering. People took off for little walks along the river while others stayed around the campfire. The two older grand girls became engrossed in a game that involved drying moss and bark against the fire ring. How easily they entertain themselves in nature. I love to see it. 

In that narrow valley darkness fell quickly. I happened to look up close to 4:30 and saw the last line of sunlight along the hill.

 Here are the birthday girls with cupcakes made by our youngest daughter. (In the photo our eldest daughter is in the middle and our daughter-in-law on the right.) Once darkness fell we packed up and headed home, smelling of campfire smoke and replete with a meal everyone contributed to. It was a fun time for everyone, and I'm so glad it worked out this time. Our wonderful Provincial Health Officer has encouraged us to limit time indoors with others and to be careful with how many people we associate with. For us it's just family at this point, other than school (for me) and work (for Tim). Our children are mostly working from home. 

Into November We Go

On Sunday afternoon (after our tea at the Abkhazi Garden mentioned in the previous post), we met up with our eldest daughter and her family for a walk. 

This is the time of year when Pacific Salmon return to their birthplace to spawn the next season's fish, and then die. 

Tall cedar and maple trees line the banks of the Goldstream River. They crowd out the sun and dapple the light on the water. Occasionally, looking up through a clearing, one sees the burnished shades of autumn against the blue sky.

The salmon run is late this year, and although we saw a number of dark silvery fish hanging out in quiet deep pools, they have not yet laid their eggs nor turned red and begun to die. 

Leaves drifted and swirled down from the trees along the pathways, mesmerizing to watch. They came singly at times, or in great flurries when a breeze passed through the branches. 

Here's the November 1st birthday girl hiding behind a big leaf. (edited to add - My birthday is at the end of October; our daughter's on the first of November.)
The golden days of October shifted dramatically with the turning of the calendar to November. Sun and warmth have given way to chilly temperatures, wind, and cold rain, with snow at higher elevations. Most unusual this early. A portent of things to come? We'll see.

How are things in your corner at the beginning of November?