Through The Looking Glass

“in the gardens of memory, in the palace of dreams, that is where you and I shall meet” – The Mad Hatter

Smoke from the fires raging in California (USA) arrived yesterday, smothering the late August light and colouring the golden sun red. This on top of another week of warm weather for those of us who love September but aren’t quite ready for summer to end.

I’ve had a strangely beautiful summer filled with many walks on familiar forest trails and new pathways by the lagoon. A summer filled with unexpected music and art if one is willing to seek it out…

One late August night I found myself out on the balcony, barefoot underneath a starry sky swaying to the live music of a Mariachi band rising up from our street – the heartbreakingly familiar songs left me humming and singing a word or two deep in memories of living in Mexico. There was also a summer afternoon concert one street over, a gift to the two musicians’ neighbours who supported them through many a cancelled gig this year and a wonderful gift to their beloved West End neighbourhood. After a cool drink and shared desserts at the Stanley Park Pavilion, my friend and I found a shady spot on the prickly grass and were entranced for half an hour listening to Elvis songs (their muse) and sad love songs from eras laid to rest. Bathed in a cool breeze, that summer afternoon is not easily forgotten.

The dissonance reverberating through our world gives us pause but in between the hard fought stillness, there are miracles to be had and embraced. On many of my lagoon walks towards the Coal Harbour seawall I’ve noticed a pristine waterway and often look down into its clear depths in hopes of spying a starfish. On today’s late summer wander, I watched a young gull lazily swimming by and as I took a closer look, I saw a pretty purple starfish clinging to a submerged rock – I haven’t seen one of its kind in our local waters in years! And guess what? Suddenly, I began noticing them at almost every step…

On the eve of back to school and some work places, I’ve come upon a spot to sit amid variegated green with touches of burnished red with a view of English Bay to rival the south of France. There’s a scent of salt and briny seaweed in the air, the wind warning from the morning just beginning to move through the trees and after a sip of cool water, I find myself feeling content. There is no more summer fruit to buy down by the sandy beach but a gelato to enjoy as I make my way will be the icing on the cake after an otherworldly walk through the forest. A forest now filled with fluttering menace as the Western Hemlock Looper moth takes wing in the thousands, a sight only seen during 10-30 year cycles. Harmful only to the trees around me, their delicate bodies gently touch my clothing and hair as I move among them, a looking glass image underneath smoky skies.

Safe passage back through the looking glass can be found in the pages of a book, a fragrant cup of tea or in a hidden forest garden peppered with smooth stones and sacred altars. I’ve found passage sitting outside at a sweet Parisian-style cafe offering respite from busy city streets – located in a developing community of funky bistros and greenspace on my way to revisit a favourite haunt, Granville Island. On that beautiful day there were long line-ups at the market so I inhaled its comforting scents of creosote, salt, and fish and chips before jumping on the small ferry boat to take me back home. My sunny amble beside the many beaches was heavenly, dissolving the looking glass for a few stolen moments once again…

This stunning holiday-like view of the lighthouse in Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.) was captured just off a favourite trail that takes us to Brockton Oval!

The spacious deck of the Stanley Park Pavilion has offered us sanctuary during the pandemic, drinking a pint above lush gardens on a summer afternoon has been simply divine!

A hidden forest garden just off a main path reveals one of the many altars scattered throughout this lush cedar-scented oasis in Stanley Park – after mask-wearing and worrying, it was lovely to stay awhile and simply breathe.

Have I passed through the looking glass again? This has been our view during daylight hours for the past few days, we’ve been inside our apartment for four days (we stepped out this morning wearing masks against the widespread smoke from the relentless fires burning in California, Oregon and Washington…some sunshine drew us out for a short walk this afternoon). We’ve heard that smoke like this might come and go throughout the fall…