Every day I am "OMGing" because the visual world around me is stunningly beautiful in that way you hope  every vacation you go on will be. What makes this extraordinary is that I'm not on vacation. This is home. Home, for now anyway.  I have to keep reminding myself of that. Today's outing to the beach, where endless hiking trails wind and weave around, is 15 minutes away from where I live. I can see the sights in these photos every single day, if I choose to. Therein lies the Oh My Gawd!  I'm constantly feeling and silently saying to myself. Sometimes I even say it out loud. 

Oyster Catchers

​There couldn't have been a better sign for me at the entrance to the park. When I spoke to a lady coming back from one of the trails with her dog she cautioned me to be watchful for cougars and bears. I loved the idea that I might get to see one or both.

​The more I photograph, the more I see; I mean really see. Now, when I walk along the beach, I see so many more shapes, impastoed barks, textures, lighting, depth, curves, shadows and reflections. I love the way the sun changes the colors of everything and changes depths with its shade. I also enjoy capturing rocks, seaweed, and all the beach stuff along the way. It's a wonderland each time I walk along the shore. The tide brings new wood and gifts to shore and shifts what was there the day before. Ever changing, always beautiful, it's nature's art gallery. And it's nourishing, healing and inspiring.

One of my favorite blogs is BEACH WOOD if you
love all kinds of textures, shapes, colors and nature's art. 

NATURE'S STRING

NATURE'S THREAD

I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not on vacation; I live here! When you live in a place like this, where most people come when they have time off once or twice a year, it feels a bit surreal realzing this is home right now! 

​Nature equally welcomes all creatures without judgment. I love how it's the most inclusive place on earth. When you walk into a forest there are no borders, no class distinctions. Forests don't tell you you're not welcome because of silly things like the color of your skin, or because of who you love or where you come from. You don't have to believe in gods, or one specific god or even any god, to be welcome.

Forests feel magical to me. They remind me of an art museum without walls or borders and without "do not touch" signs,  where the best artifacts exist and the most creative art forms are displayed. There's aging wood, long since alive, that has delicious textures and comes with bends, knots, scars and twists that match the best of human sculptors.

I believe trees communicate with each other and maybe that's, in part, where I feel the magic. There's a deep sense of working together, of cooperation and even symbiosis out there. Forests are home to so many life forms. It's an incredibly inclusive and welcoming place to be.

I've always done my best thinking on walks and hikes. Nature has a way of cleansing the gunk that builds up in my head. It's the perfect "delete and reset" button out there.

Taking time to listen to the silence in a forest is a powerful experience. We tend to power walk through nature and when we do, we miss the real power that comes from being part of this beautiful and inclusive community. 

Bark designs and textures can mesmerize.

Photographed on two different days. The smoke from
​nearby fires was getting thick. Below was on a very smokey day.

Seton Lake is glacier fed lending a surreal turquoise color to the water.

 The sockeye salmon run on the Adams River in British Columbia is one of the largest in the world. It's a spectacular live nature show that you don't have to pay to see. There's no entry fee into the park and no guided tours you have to take. Even dogs on leashes are allowed. 

If you have the heart of an artist or simply a deep love of all that is outdoors, you will be captivated by the colors, the reflections, the movement, and the sheer determination of these magificent creatures. Every second is in motion, so the scene is constantly shifting. Sometimes it was a kaleidescope sensation of colors; opalesce in other moments. The red salmon and army green head shimmers beneath the current and the light changes the colors all the time. For an instant, sometimes you can see the eyes or mouth or fins or tail. There'll be white water from the fish jumping. Other times it's a beautiful abstract painting of reds, yellows, oranges, blues and greens. 

Salmon are born in fresh water and swim to the ocean. At the end of their life, they swim back upstream against the current to the river and spot where they were born. The salmon stop eating when they reach the fresh water. "This means that adults can go six months without food while transferring body fats into their gametes for reproduction." 


The female lays her eggs in the gravel beneath the water in several spots and the males will fight to fertilize it. After they spawn, the salmon die. Marine rich nutrients from life in the ocean are released into the river and ecosystem.

​The eggs that don't get washed away, will remain where the mother salmon laid them through the winter where they grow into an embryo. When it's time in the spring, the tiny salmon wiggle free from their soft shell while retaining the yolk sac for nutrients. At this stage they are called an alevin. Once their yolk sac is absorbed they are considered fry. They have the nickname of "buttoned up fry" because there's a visible seam underneath their belly. 

The roundtrip distance for these salmon from the fresh water rivers to the ocean is about 4000 km (2285 miles). Most salmon live four to five years. Varying numbers of survival say one to two percent of hatched salmon make into adulthood to reproduce. 

​Beginning in Monashee Mountains, fed by unnamed glaciers, the Adams River flows into the Thompson and Fraser Rivers and also into the Adams Lake and Shuswap Lake. Adams Lake is 457 meters (1,499 ft) deep and 63 kilometers (39 mi) long. (See map at the end of this blog.) 
Wiki states its mean depth makes it the 6th deepest lake in the world. The lake was named after First Nations’ Chief Adam (sometimes spelled Atahm) of the Secwépemc people. He died in 1862 during the smallpox epidemic, that reportedly wiped out over half of the local Secwepemc population.

Nature creates beautiful abstract pieces of art.

The red X is where I took photos of the salmon.