always at sea level: Week 37 - Time To Say Good-Bye

Nine months, two people and a remote lodge set on the edge of the wild pacific

west coast of Haida Gwaii.

What an adventure it has been. It'll be 284 days when the plane arrives to take us back into the world of people, cars, stores ,noise, restaurants and.... TV. (yeah baby!)

The first group of summer crew will touch down on May 31^st. Mike and I are going to stick around for another 24 hours to pass along any knowledge of the lodge which they might need to know, I think mostly we will just talk their ear off. Maybe you read my post,“The Effects of Isolation” week 27. It explains a lot.
I'll miss the morning sounds of singing birds, squirrels chattering a mile a minute, the wind, the water and the creaking of the docks which still slow my steps to the genny, making me pause. It's a “stop and smell the roses” moment. I always hate to turn the noisy machine on but one must have coffee.
Living in remote areas seems to suit us. Where else can I grab my camera, run down to the beach to photograph an eagle foraging for food while wearing my pyjamas and rubber boots. Our computer table sits right in front of a wall of windows offering up an ever changing picture. I never get tired of sitting back and taking in the view.

Sally and Harry have kept us amused, as they peer into our bedroom window before we are even up or sit patiently outside the backdoor forever nibbling on moss and bits of grass.

The cats, Brock and The Princess (name seems appropriate for this high maintenance feline) provided plenty of pictures and company when walking along the beach,through the forest or catching a few rays.

Everything is always green here. The tress don't drop leaves nor does the grass turn brown but I have found some signs that proclaim spring has arrived.

When I first started to write these weekly accounts of what has happened in our lives I thought, “ How will I ever be able to find something to write about week after week?” I surprised myself because there always seemed to be a tale to tell.

A storm, a flock of birds, a fallen tree, the arrival of a plane, the making of a fruit cake, they all provided a story and pictures.

Example: This helicopter has been here 3 times this week, actually he has only hovered overhead but 3 times non the less. Sunday morning ( definitely something about Sundays and visitors) was the first day we heard the roar. I rushed to change into pants instead of pyjamas and in the minute that it took, the chopper was speeding away. Not like me to grab my pants instead of my camera but this time I did and lost a picture because of it. Monday when we heard the roar again I grabbed the camera and Mike rushed to the radio in the kitchen to see if we could talk with the pilot. He did while I took pictures. Wednesday afternoon.... deja vu.

Have no idea why he keeps stopping by, conversation via radio not very clear but for us it's a bit of excitement and a photo op.

I have always loved to watch the weather and changing sky. I'm the type of person who will sit out on the porch to watch a lightening storm. Although my scope of vision is rather limited looking out onto the same hills, bay and islands each day they are never the same.