a sun-drenched elsewhere {part 3}

These were our final days on Vancouver Island.

Every morning the sound of chopping firewood was our alarm clock and the smell of it's burn was our breakfast calling.  We ate beef jerky, eggs, buttered toast, cheese and bowls of cereal. I wish I could always eat my breakfast on the forest floor.  The sounds of a squirrel and morning birds singing, makes everything taste better.

There's something to be said about sleeping in the forest too. Images move in your mind like paintings and flowers get built inside of your head. Each dream I had was so colorful, almost as bright as the waking forest itself. If only the city had fresh air like this, I would never have trouble sleeping again.

Next to our campground there was a batch of large trees. In between them there was a dirt trail that walked you to the ocean. One early morning we followed that trail. I stood there, with the lightness of my feet in sea water, watching the waves roll on by. Below me, little fish touched my ankles and then disappeared into sea foam.  This kind of view could dim the face of a lover.

We wanted to swim with our heads underwater but the water was cold. I splashed my hands around trying to convince myself... dive in you silly human.... you don't got forever.... After a few gulps, I finally let my muscles pull me in. Nothing compares to the feeling of ocean surrounding your body. Not even a hot bath or swigs of the wildest whiskey can compare.

After letting my hair be sweetened by the water, I popped up and saw two seals. They were watching us swim. I waved at them and similar to a whack-the-gopher game, they'd poke their heads through the water and then hide. This continued on for awhile as they kept swimming closer.
We were tired from our swim before they reached us.

  On our last day, we went to Cathedral Grove (an old growth forest in the provincial park.) The forest is home to a rare ecosystem. Douglas fir trees, western red cedars, huckleberry, and woodpeckers live there. Some of the trees are more than 800 years old, having survived loggers and wicked storms.

Each tree is like an upward pull, tilting your head toward the clouds. Beetles look like jewels on the dirt path. Ancient branches hang over your head like heaven. There are aboriginal markings on tree trunks, bright green moss, and clean clean air in your lungs. It's a very ethereal and haunting place, you could almost comb through a spirit's hair.

I didn't want to go back to the city. The ocean and the forest felt more like home.

See you again soon Vancouver Island.

What I'm Wearing

insect print round neckline dress - oasap { sponsor }

boots - value village $15