This is the view from our front deck; just to the right, actually. When my sister saw pictures of our new digs, the first thing she said was “What a perfect place to be inspired to write”.
Looking out over the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the vista is constantly changing. The water runs from still blue, to choppy grey. In the cove to the right, a group of sea otters comes out to play most afternoons, and there is almost always a seal or three basking on the rocks.
Sea birds abound; keeping the seagulls, ducks and Canada geese company are a heron, turkey vultures, and at least one bald eagle. The entrance to Victoria harbour is on the left, and with it, boat traffic, everything from sea kayaks, to fishing boats, to cruise ships, making their way in and out. I know the daily schedule of the Coho, the ferry that connects us to the US, and I recognize her horn as she pulls away from her jetty at the start of each trip. Overhead, float planes and heli-jets criss cross–business travellers to Vancouver, tourists on sightseeing trips over the island.
Farther out, the busy shipping lanes from the Pacific to Vancouver provide a daily parade of enormous container ships and freighters and just past that, the snow-capped mountains of Washington state’s Olympic range.
At night, an ever-changing light show: buoys, red and green navigation markers, running lights, the moonlight, the twinkling lights of Port Angeles across the water.
We are so incredibly fortunate to be spending our time in Victoria here.
There’s no doubt it’s inspiring–but it’s inspiring me to sit on the deck, or in the sun porch, with a pair of binoculars lest I miss something! Is is possible that this is more distraction than inspiration?