As the sun begins to climb higher in the sky heralding the beginning of longer days and inviting the green spirals of forest ferns to emerge from their winter sleep in the forest, I too am drawn out into the light to join the marine life that is beginning to stir with greater vigor with the coming of summer.
It is hard not to feel some sense of connection to the mollusky creatures that sit clasped between their sturdy shells half covered by the ocean. Sitting the in the hard shell of my kayak, encased and kept warm and safe by my layers and dry suit, I can taste the sea in the air of the misty isles of my home waters of Vancouver Island – the enchantment is palpable as I sit watching the Pacific white-sided dolphins travel beside me.
I feel so lucky to know the magic of travel by way of water, to intimately feel the ebb and flow of the water as it caresses the rocky shores and sandy beaches of this coastal playground. Sometimes I feel like I have been told a great secret of the mystery of the natural world and my – our - connection to it.
It is this time of year that I revel in setting out in my kayak to search of the feasts of the natural world, like the sweet orange insides of Urchin, the bitter-sweet freshness of young fiddleheads and the salty softness of the muscle and oyster.
I was once told by a First Nations Elder from Haida Gwaii, B.C. that “when the tide is out, the table is set,” and today in this fresh, unfurling of spring I know it to be true.
The coming of springtime is a time of splendor for the kayaker. There is something almost magical that invites us out of the darkness of winter and into the light of spring that ever-promises the joys and delights of summertime. It is days like these that keep me excited about paddling.
"There is something almost magical that invites us out of the darkness of winter and into the light of spring that ever-promises the joys and delights of summertime."