Blissful Life

Labyrinth Anniversary

July 1st., Canada Day, marks our country's birthday and is celebrated nationwide with barbecues, beer and fireworks. However, for us, July 12th is a day which has greater significance. It is the day we annually commemorate people who are no longer with us. At this time each year we resurface the labyrinth, replace the prayer flags and generally spruce up the area, so that the lives of our departed family members and friends are honoured and our memories of them kept alive for another year.
Here is the labyrinth with its new coat of gravel and line of prayer flags... all spruced up for another year.

A special friend and many neighbours joined us on this day of re-dedication, but the labyrinth is always open and everyone is welcome to walk it. For information about ours and other labyrinths go to www.labyrinthlocator.com

As our home is on the cliff-top overlooking the Georgia Strait it is not surprising that we have a constant stream of ships and boats passing our front windows. Among the nautical giants are car ferries, cruise liners, container ships and enormous log carriers. Here is a log carrier laden with thousands of trees headed for the sawmills of Washington State.

British Columbia is a rugged land of mountains, seas and trees. So many trees that, from our windows, we can probably view more trees on the slopes of the Coastal Mountains than many city dwellers see in a lifetime. The Pacific coast of Canada and Northwest United States is home to the world's most expansive temperate rainforest and here we have trees that are more than a thousand years old that stand more than a hundred metres tall.

But not all logs are treated equally. Thousands of them are simply tossed into the rivers and corralled into rafts several kilometres long. Tiny but immensely powerful tugs like this one then nudge these log booms across the sea to the mills.

Few vessels are as unusual as this house ... Wait! A house floating past our front windows!
Many of the houses on the Gulf Islands are brought here on barges from the mainland of Canada - but this monstrous Tudor-style home came from Washington State.

Passenger vessels of all kinds ply the Strait. Tiny yachts and speedboats bounce over the waves while giant ferries glide past en-route to and from Vancouver. Here is a car ferry and a truck ferry racing to Nanaimo.

Only the foulest of foul weather keeps all ships tied up in port and we rarely look out over an empty sea. Fishing boats, coastguard vessels and naval ships brave all but the stormiest oceans and this enormous cruise liner will make it to Alaska whatever the weather.

At this time of the year the tranquility of our home is occasionally shattered by the barking of Stellar sea lions on the lighthouse island. Male Stellar sea lions are big - really big - not at all like their sleek Californian cousins who clown around in aquatic shows for a fistful of herrings. The Stellars, together with some of their Californian relatives, spend the winter with us, lazing around on the rocks shouting abuse at each other, before leaving in mid-May for their summer hunting grounds. Dominant males can weigh as much as a small truck and it would take more than a few herrings to get them bouncing balls on their noses. Despite their size we don't usually see a lot of them. Unlike their smaller cousins, the harbour seals, who live year round on the rocky island a few yards offshore, the sea-lions hunt in the deeper waters offshore. However, we saw them today. Here they are - a group of four or five - just off the beach. But what on earth were they doing so close to shore?

We watched for over an hour as one sea lion lay with his enormous flipper sticking straight up out of the water while the others circled around him. He, (or was it a she?), was the one in the middle and was obviously in some sort of distress. Sheila wanted to call 'Animal rescue' but Jim was reluctant, fearing he'd be laughed at.
"So, Sir. You say that a sea-lion is waving at you and you think he wants assistance?"
"Well not exactly - but he's got his flipper stuck in the air."
"Really, Sir."
"Yes - It's jammed straight up above the water like a shark's fin."
"And you want us to make him put it down?"
"Well..."
"Maybe you should call the police, Sir."
"Could they help?"
"They might, (laughing). It could be a crime for a sea-lion to impersonate a shark."
Jim, in his no-nonsense voice, "Young lady. You're obviously not taking me or this distressed sea-lion seriously."
"Can I ask you, Sir. Do you happen to be anywhere near the Surf Public House?"
"Yes - As a matter of fact, I'm calling you from the payphone in the bar."
"Thought so .... "

See the problem? Whoever's heard of being waved at by a two-ton sea lion?
But don't take our word for it. Here he is again - waving goodbye...

...

"Life is a labyrinth - a long, winding pathway full of experiences and challenges that eventually doubles back on itself to end at the place where it all began."
James wrote that in his novel - Deadly Sin. But, what is a labyrinth, and why do we have this one in the garden?

Despite dictionary definitions to the contrary, a labyrinth is not a maze. You can't get lost in a labyrinth, (unless you are the sort of person who gets lost on the way to the bathroom). It is a single continuous path that leads you to a central point - though not in a simple spiral like a record. ("Records" for the under 20's, were musical Frisbees in the olden times). The labyrinth's path is a metaphor for life and, like life itself, every journey begins and ends at the same point. You can decide to take that journey quickly or slowly, thoughtfully or carelessly, morally or imorally. However, once your journey has begun you have no choice but to follow it through to the end.

Labyrinth's are found worldwide and many pre-date recorded history. The most famous is the Knossos of Crete, where, in Greek mythology, the Minotaur devoured 7 male and 7 female Athenian virgins every ninth year, until the creature was eventually slain by Theseus.
So - why do we have a labyrinth? Because labyrinth's are wonderful places for meditation and reflection. Our labyrinth was built to commemorate the life of Elizabeth, Sheila's younger sister, who died in 2005.

Today, everyone is welcome to walk our labyrinth - even this four-footed visitor - without fear of being eaten by a monster.

...

Rocky is a rascally racoon, at least he was when we last saw him. But that was last year before we went galavanting in Asia. Maybe he missed us. Maybe Camilla, our cat, finally got revenge for the scratches he gave her and he's gone in search of easier prey.
Like all racoons Rocky was a natural acrobat - a furry, black-eyed, Olga Korbut - who walked a tightrope as he slunk through the undergrowth in our garden, hoping to have cat for lunch. We didn't see him often, but we heard him - and, fortunately, so did Camilla. Here's Camilla, in the relaxed pose she adopts when Rocky isn't around.

Before we left on our trip, Rocky was beginning to get a little too close for comfort; often hanging about in the lower branches of the trees that Camilla likes to think of as hers. But when he began using the top rail of our deck as a balance beam he had gone too far.
"Get off," shouted Jim in his policeman's voice, and Rocky ran the length of the deck with Jim in pursuit, until the rail
ran out at the top of the cliff. With nowhere to go, Rocky slipped over the edge of the rail and, like a climber clinging to a ledge, held on with his fingertips. Then he looked down! Oh- Oh! There was a problem. With Jim fast approaching, Rocky realized he was caught between a rock and a very hard place twenty-feet beneath him. Panic was in his eyes as he looked at Jim: then back at the rocks: back at Jim: back at the rocks: back at ..... (you get the idea). After several long seconds of indecision he correctly guessed that Jim was considerably softer than the cliffside and he hauled himself back onto the rail, ran straight past Jim and just kept going. We haven't seen him since.

Missing - Racoon. Goes by name of Rocky.

If found - Please ... Please ... Please keep him.

...