Gazing out on the Salish Sea, across Boundary Pass at the moon rising over the San Juans, I am humbled by the stillness and intense beauty. It’s prime summer, just now, and the scene is emblematic of this time and place, South Pender Island.
It’s interesting how a childhood experience can signify something entirely different decades later.
Perhaps your memory of a happy time turns out to be unsettling in later years. Or, as in this case, a frightening afternoon as a child turns out to be something wondrous and formative much later in life.
This happened to me on a snowy winter’s day, a Sunday in 1963, in West Vancouver.… Continue reading