Now where was I? Here: Day One, Leg Two: the Sunshine Coast.
The Sechelt Peninsula is known locally as the Sunshine Coast for a reason; it has the mildest climate to be found in BC., with 14 more days of sunshine than flowery Victoria, the merest sprinkling of snow in the winter (if that), and Vancouver Island on the west serving as a windbreak. At the Langdale ferry terminal, a palm tree grows unprotected, facing the sea.
The peninsula stretches from Gibson's Landing at the southern tip, through a narrow neck at Sechelt townsite, to Earl's Cove in the north, where another ferry (free, outbound) takes us to the Powell River area. Local industry majors in tourism, fishing, and logging. The Sechelt native band quarries gravel. And all along the road we see little signs, with arrows and the legend(s), "Artist - artisan -potter - carver ---"
We followed some of these arrows, with varying results.
Just south of Sechelt, we turned at the sign of the "Art Barn". At the end of a long drive down a winding gravel road, we found the driveway. And this closed door, leaning against a tree.
Behind the tree, in an open field, a battered table and two red chairs invited us to stop.
Frayed silver fabric, flaking paint.
Invitation to rest.
The artist was obviously planning to return; the closure was temporary. We checked out the work displayed in the field and around the walls.
Detail of structure in yard: "Mardi", upside-down.
Two motifs predominated: rusty metal, cut and shaped into panels, possibly to be used as doors or gates. (One is attached to the wall at the top of the stairs.) And natural objects, painted silver. Even the bare tree in the yard was half silvered.
Silvered antlers, with cryptic markings on the skull.
Back on the road, some little ways on, we passed this mysterious carving.
There was no sign identifying the work or the artist. It is what it is.
The town of Sechelt; it was too hot already, and we took ourselves to the beach.
Another mysterious construction, this one not intended as art.
Sechelt rockweed. Smaller than ours, at home.
Steep, pebbly beach. The bottom cuts off sharply; no wading here.
Onward, and upward! Or, at least, Northward.
The highway skirts a small, green and blue lake, possibly known as Trout Lake. We stopped to look.
And native wildlife.
The obelisk posture is a handstand-like position that some dragonflies and damselflies assume to prevent overheating on sunny days. The abdomen is raised until its tip points at the sun, minimizing the surface area exposed to solar radiation. When the sun is close to directly overhead, the vertical alignment of the insect's body suggests an obelisk.
When the sun is low but the air is still hot, dragonflies may adopt a modified obelisk position with the abdomen only partially raised (From Wikipedia.)
These blue dragonflies were hunting along the shoreline. Out over the water lilies, large black and white dragonflies darted back and forth, too quickly to photograph, too quickly even to see properly.
The lake looked cool, but the sun was still hot. We couldn't stand on our heads like dragonflies, so on we went.
Next: Stonewater at Garden Bay.