7. Just Passing the Thyme

Chapter Seven:
A bump on a log

“Don’t spoil your dinner.” I’d heard those words many times when mom would catch me sneaking a snack.

That had been over 35 years ago and there was no one to stop me now. I poured a cup of Red Rose tea – the perfect accompaniment to the chocolates I’d been enjoying every evening after dinner. Tonight, they were the appetizer.

I was again reclining on the ottoman and catching up on some journalling after having returned from a late afternoon walk. When the rain finally stopped I’d headed down to the beach.

The forest smelled earthy and felt even more alive, awash with the freshness of the rain. The wind rested, sparing me from any overhead runoff from the trees. Beside me on the left, a small creek rushed feverishly down the slope, replenished and flowing purposefully and rhythmically towards the ocean.

My shoes crunched across the gravelly sand. I glanced in every direction quickly taking in the surroundings. I was alone. The distant sky was feathered with intense, dark grey clouds and the mountains loomed up from the horizon across the water, purplish-coloured silhouettes below lower hanging soft, white, whispy clouds.

The tide was out and I tested my so-called waterproof hiking shoes at a spot where the waves were lightly kissing the rocky shore. The shoes, for the most part are waterproof as claimed. However, I didn’t take into account that the waves cleared my ankles, giving me a soaker. I didn’t care.

I could go no further at this point, coming to a stop at a rocky point near the water’s edge. My footsteps ceased just as a Blue Heron took flight from a spot 20 metres to my left. I hadn’t noticed him before and it was too late to aim the camera. Instead, I watched him fly off, skimming close to the surface of the water, mesmerized by his grace and speed.

With the Heron out of sight, I put my camera to work taking pictures of tree roots and rocks. I was fascinated by Mother Nature’s works of art – everywhere I looked – in every direction, above and below.

Though I knew there would be no sunset this evening, I perched myself on a log to relax and watch the seagulls.

A tug boat slowly towed its load past near the distant shore before disappearing from sight on its way north towards the Sunshine Coast. I listened to the motor purring until it was out of sight.

I sat there enjoying the freshness of the ocean air after having been inside all day. I noticed a dog and his owner sitting on their dock about 50 metres away, partially hidden by the trees. The dog was watching me intently. It wasn’t long before he ventured off the deck and crossed through the water, which was about two or three feet deep.

“Awh,” I thought. “He’s coming to say hi.” My heart swelled with pride. I felt special.

I watched him splash through the water, nose in the air, before stepping onto the rocky shore and shaking the water off. Then he pranced in my direction and I readied myself for a friendly meeting.

He slowed when he approached and I noticed he only had one eye when he looked up. I smiled and leaned towards him, “Hello there.” He gave me a disdainful look and pranced off, while I choked on my disappointment. “Snooty pooch,” I thought wryly. Guess I was intruding on HIS turf.

The log was damp from the rain and after a short time I stood and walked back up the stairs, up the earthy path beside the river and up the road, arriving again, breathless at the front gate of Island Thyme.

Day three was slowly winding to a close and I was grateful that time seemed to have stood still. Sunshine was forecast for Thursday… so was Mount Gardner.

Mount Gardner, finally…

I stayed in bed longer than planned the next morning. It was just too darn comfortable. While laying there I heard the phone ringing upstairs. Wynn’s footsteps hurried across the floor to answer it, knocking over a broom in the process. I heard the smack as its handle struck the floor. My cue to get up.

To nourish up for the impeding hike, I cooked up one of my favourite hearty breakfasts: fried mashed potatoes with onions, and what I call a lazy omelette.

I fried mushrooms, green pepper and garlic in butter and at just the right time, poured in two eggs that had been lightly beaten with a little cream. This mixture rested over a low heat.

There was no cheese grater, so I sliced the cheddar as best as I could with a knife. I figured the worst that could happen was that I’d have a huge chunk of melted cheese on the top. I could live with that.

On my way to the table I passed by Spider who was still sitting in her corner of the window. Last night she had surprised me by dropping down from her window corner about six inches. I’d watched her for a minute, amazed at how such a huge, gross-looking spider could become so graceful and beautiful. I decided she needed a name and left that thought to marinate.

It was noon by the time I turned off Mutiny Road and hit the trail. I was eager to make it to the top of Mount Gardner and connect with the Killarney Lake trail.

At 650 metres, the Mount Gardner hike was supposed to take six hours. Since I was planning on connecting with Killarney Lake I wouldn’t be hiking the entire trail network on the mountain. And though I was carrying a map, I knew I’d be improvising.

I was prepared to spend the night on the mountain if I had to, though I didn’t relish that thought.

Tagged as: BC Bed and Breakfast, Bowen Island