dreamtime.

on the west coast. we made it we did. second out of three years for our annual tofino trip (together i mean – last year i came on my own). though so far we haven’t actually made it to tofino. we are staying in a wee ‘shabin’ belonging to our friend, somewhere near ucluelet, and what a fine sweet place this is. it is about seven by ten feet, uninsulated, with a little loft and a lone window.

it’s an interesting place we are in. i haven’t actually explored much of the logging roads around tofino/ucluelet, and there’s a whole ‘nother world out here, rife with beaches that are relatively unpopulated compared to the strip. and this little village of tiny houses and mobile homes, in an area completely logged of trees, makes for an interesting looking landscape, with a great view of the ocean. it seems to be a little jut of land, as it is hemmed in on two sides by the rolling waves of the sea – a dreamy sound to be lulled by as i write this. on the wee island we don’t get these wild west coast rollers. the intense pull of the wilderness on ones bones. i think those who live by this sound must be a different breed. must have a different amble. a different way of moseying through the world. how the immense sounds of nature can move through us and reorganize our atoms as they do. i crave this sometimes. what i think of as a sweeping clean. a bodily confessing of all that we carry. that must be at least partly why i have such a hunger to be out here when autumn wanes and hibernation sets in.