Wolves Howling

Wotcha lookin' at? Edgar the eafle returns to his winter perch on the waterfront of shearwater.

Wotcha lookin’ at?
Edgar the eagle returns to his winter perch on the waterfront of Shearwater.

Isn’t it interesting how things work out? It is early on Wednesday morning, the brightening of the day is occurring reluctantly after a very rainy night. My toilet clogged first thing and I’m taking time off from work to resolve the problem. It might become a shitty day. As I returned to the boat after booking out from the job and grim-lipped at the task ahead, I heard something unusual.

Hi slack gleam. The sun catches surface tension in a backwater. Interestingly, a friend first saw this as a picture of city lights.

Hi slack gleam. The sun catches surface tension in a backwater. Interestingly, a friend first saw this as a picture of city lights.

Brined-burned branches. a super-high spring tid pushed even higher by the advancing wind of a storm front. (thanks to the full moon)

Brined-burned branches.
A super-high spring tide pushed even higher by the advancing wind of a storm front.
(thanks to the full moon)

I paused and listened. To my delight what I could hear was a chorus of wolves howling. The music drifted down through the timber on the slopes above. A sacred sound to me, it is a terrifying and hellish siren to many who chose to believe the dark myths and embellished lies about wolves. Curse or blessing, that is up to each of us. My point in mentioning any of this personal moment is that had the timing of my movements not been exactly as they were, I would not have heard those uplifting notes. I think that’s pretty cool. Now…Dung ho!

My life as a worm. The convoluted casings of sea worms on the end of an old plastic barrel. The picture could be a social comment don't you think?

My life as a worm. The convoluted casings of sea worms on the end of an old plastic barrel. The picture could be a social comment don’t you think?

On the note of a wolf howl let me direct my readers to an incredible website. pacificwild.org is how you will find the incredible photography and video work of Ian McAllister and his organization, Pacific Wild. The endeavour is based here on Denny Island and does wonderful work to heighten awareness of the beauty and fragility of the Great Bear Rainforest as this area is known. The stunning images leave me feeling like an amateur photographer and wanting to throw my cameras away in humility. If those photos don’t stir your heart, you’re dead. Stay in your city, zombie!

Fall colours. Desperate for some autumn gold I turned my attention to individual plants. a day later, these leaves were brown mush.

Fall colours. Desperate for some autumn gold I turned my attention to individual plants. A day later, these leaves were brown mush.

A shave and a hair cut. Seafire on the hard last weekend for bottom inspection, cleaning, paint touch-up and new zinc anodes. While working on the bowsprit, a humpback whale swam past the docks...always a wonderful sight.

A shave and a hair cut.
Seafire hauled up on the hard last weekend for bottom inspection, cleaning, paint touch-up and new zinc anodes. While working on the bowsprit, a humpback whale swam past the docks…always a wonderful sight.

A murder of crows. A seafood buffet of mussels scraped from the bottom of someone's boat.

A murder of crows. A seafood buffet of mussels scraped from the bottom of someone’s boat.

Autumn sunrise on the model Stranraer. It's been making some very interesting noises during the storms.

Autumn sunrise shining on the model Stranraer here in Shearwater. It’s been making some very interesting noises during the storms. Soon it’ll be stored away for winter.

Vigorous II in dawn's early light. An old wooden tug converted to a yacht. What lines! Sunshine, as you can see, becomes a most treasured commodity now that summer is past.

Vigorous II in dawn’s early light. An old wooden tug converted to a yacht. What lines!
Sunshine, as you can see, becomes a most treasured commodity now that summer is past.

Two days later, the wolves are at it again. Two packs, one on each side of the bay, called back and forth to each other through the morning. The serenade of quavering howls and yodels went on for hours until the cold autumn rain began again. Soon it was pelting down. Its rising roar drowned out the wolves. I imagine them snuggled up together under a thick cedar tree, warm, dry and loved. Yes, even wolves are very capable of great love.

"Bloody hell it's cold!" "Wouldn't be so bad if we cuddled up." "Wot? We're eagles!"

“Bloody hell it’s cold!”
“Wouldn’t be so bad if we cuddled up.”
“Wot? We’re eagles!”

This is a short blog. I’ll be away south taking care of business but I’ll be back to my beloved Seafire as soon as possible to see where the universe might lead me. Here’s a short piece I wrote the other morning just before the wolf songs began.

Rising

When I awoke this morning

in the dark before the dawn

the sky was cloudless after days of storm.

High in the east two stars rose

side by side, newly joined

bright, equal, clear

it was all I needed to know.

_______________________________________________________

(Then, to my chagrin, I later learn that one of those stars is in fact a Russian space station.)

Life on the edge ...and the value of a good route system.

Life on the edge …and the value of a good route system.

Sea And Fog

Sea and fog…water silently becoming air…air silently becoming water.

…Ray Grigg, The Tao Of Sailing

Well all right! One more eagle photo.

Well all right! One more eagle photo.

2 responses to “Wolves Howling

  1. I remember seeing Edgar on that same perch when we were there. But we weren’t treated to any wolf serenade, much as I would have loved to hear one! Enjoyed the post, Fred, and the photos. Stay warm and dry! The monsoons have begun here.

  2. Cheers Laurie. Only seven months until summer! Fred

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