SUMMER

Once a First Nations ancient basket weaver was asked how she collected her weaving materials.
“Oh, I go in the summer to my places.”
“When is summer in these parts?”
“Oh, sometime in August.”
“When is summer over?”
“Oh, sometime in August.”

Summer is elusive on the north coast. It comes in bits and pieces, part of an afternoon, a few days of light northwest winds. Summer is a feeling, a lifting of dark skies, a light heart, possibilities overflowing.

Summer is when the salmon come up the inlets, preparing themselves for the arduous journey up their native streams to spawn.

Tzoonie River, Billy Griffith’s seine boat pulling in the net (05)

And with the salmon come the seals and the whales, and all the neighbours who are fed by salmon.

The humpback whales were late this year,
these two were off the islands south of Baron Island, during the last week in July.

A north coast summer isn’t necessarily warm, and sometimes the sun comes out of the clouds just in time for sunset.

La Sonrisa in the morning mist

But after days of rain and drizzle, whenever the sun arrives it’s suddenly summer! The kids didn’t wait for the rain to quit this day when the sun broke through.

Sun on a waterfall slide makes the cold water bearable

Summer is the sweet little packages of light dangling from branches - salmonberries, red and blue huckleberries, raspberries. Us and the bears and ravens take our turns.

Current bushes grown up the old apple tree

Iain Lawrence, coastal writer (Far Away Places) used to live in Dodge Cove, next bay south from Crippen Cove. He and his wife sailed south for the summer and north for the winter (opposite to us) and wrote of their experiences. They labeled their berry jams and jellies with the names of the places they were picked. They called them “Summer in a jar”

“Summer in a jar”