This week I scratched the surface of Salt Spring Island. It was my first visit to the popular Salish Sea home for about 10,000 people - many of them artists, musicians, organic farmers, crafts people and independent spirits.
Even on a brief visit, the natural and human-made layers of existence in a place like Salt Spring are apparent. My wife and I were visiting during the early spring 'off-season.' The term seems strange. How could a season be "off?"
It refers, of course, to the currently dominant industry on Salt Spring, tourism. By May and through the summer months, thousands of visitors will stream onto the island via its three ferry terminals to soak up the rolling green vistas, sample fresh goat cheese, buy some hand made clothing at the market, or stop at a roadside stand for some organic free range eggs.
The quiet, at the end of February, suited us just fine.
At Grandma's Beach in Ruckle Park, we were the only human visitors, so the Bald Eagles who initially flew out when we walked in eventually returned.
Sitting still in nature reminds us that there is no stillness, no stasis. Life is moving.