Vancouver Island and I have been having an affair. It’s been lustful, wet, and misty, from each time I land, until the time I part. I’ve come to her shores at the drop of a hat when she would call for no reason. I’ve been kicked to her curb and have come back crawling, floating, gladly.
But I’ve been adrift for some time. Tossed even. Not anchored to any particular shore. The envy of my coupled friends. Vagabonding with the wind, befriending many along my way and always, always, falling in love.
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These photos are from a recent trip to the tiny coastal town of Tofino, on the far west side of Vancouver Island, B.C. I don’t know why I’m drawn to the ocean towns like this, but their silky docks, draped in drips of moss, sub-dermal, sexy, and ultimately illusive in the fog, make me want to stand tall and sure when I walk them–a better man–if you will.
Filed under: Daily Journal, Photography, Travel, Writing the Waves Tagged: B.C., Tofino
