pender island
Some weeks ago now, just as the first cherry blossoms began to bloom and Laurianne was in town studying, we went to Pender Island for the weekend. Spring was whispering her imminent arrival, and we decided to pay our dear cousin Meg a visit. She has been living on Pender for a few months now, in a wood cabin tucked deep in the woods, and we couldn't resist her invitation for a pair of days there.*
These days were, no doubt, a salve for our souls.
Pender Island wooed us with her endless arbutus and cedar and fir, her foamy waves licking rocky beaches, her windy roads and her charming cabins with curls of smoke dancing out of chimneys.
We hiked in the daytime, read poetry as the sun set, watched sea lions poking their heads above salty water. Family lore and vignettes were recounted around the table for hours. Meg's hospitality took the form of creative dishes, spirited conversation and the loveliest little guest cabin right on the edge of the property.
We awoke to the sound of birdsong and wind whistling through conifer. We spent our first day driving windy roads around the island, spellbound by forests and rocky beaches cloaked in rolling fog. Our first pitstop was Thieves Bay, where we observed departing boats and ambling dog walkers at the marina. We wondered aloud what it would have been like to grow up there. On the island, everyone seemed to move at a leisurely pace. Time decelerated that weekend, moving like syrup or honey dripping ever so slowly from the tip of a spoon.
Locals were friendly, welcoming. Their momentum, matched with their closeness to nature, was deeply compelling to us urban folk. At one point, as we hiked, we ran into a local woman whom I had not seen approaching. I exclaimed, "I didn't see you there - you match the trees!" to which she stopped in her tracks, responding softly: "What a kind compliment. The highest of compliments."
And I thought this to be so striking - to measure beauty through creation. I should do that more often.
We sipped London fog and inhaled lungfuls of Pacific air. We walked to the tip of Roesland and the views there took our breath away.
Armed with hot chocolate and a hint of Bailey's Irish cream, we watched the sunset from Oak Bluffs, and although it muddled by the clouds - it was a dazzling view up there. There is something about the ocean - the glorious sight of endless water - that reminds you of your finitude and of the world's grandeur.
I feel as though we got a beautiful sense of the island - Vanilla Leaf Cafe and Tailsman Books for some thrifted reads, Poet's Cove for a wander, Shingle Bay for its views and turquoise waterfront. We delighted in the old Anglican church on South Pender, a brisk walk and shared laughs along Gowlland Point. Oh! And I promised myself I'd bring Paul to Woods for coffee and a cinnamon bun one day.
There’s no doubt about it: God went on a creative rampage when He created British Columbia. We were so blessed to have Meg be our tour guide around one corner of it. She showed us around Pender Island through her eyes, and it was a glorious sight.
We alighted the ferry back to Vancouver, our pockets full of shells and sea glass, with a renewed sense of gladness and a rekindled appreciation for open spaces and fresh air. I really couldn’t have dreamt up a better few days if I tried.
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