The sun sinks slowly...

The sunset through a ferry window on Friday, as photographed by John. I am there to add perspective.

 When the sky flamed a spectacular purple and orange through the ferry windows on our way home from Saltspring Island on Friday, John couldn't help himself. "As the sun sinks slowly in the west, we bid a reluctant farewell to the friendly natives of...," he intoned, imitating the famous endings of the old travel shorts shown in movie theatres.

Vacations on Saltspring always have their ups and downs, but like James A. FitzPatrick, who began producing those Traveltalk films about exotic locales in 1929, I will mention only the positives. (FitzPatrick, a former children's teacher, was criticized for never reporting on ugliness or even minor annoyances in his films, but maintained that showing young people the bright side of life would put them on the track to more constructive thinking.)

So, my positives from Saltspring, this time around: Surrendering to the first chill of an ocean swim, then finding it glorious on a hot day. Conversations with members of the Vesuvius Beach Indolent Society, the wide variety of Saltspringers who congregate on the beach about 4 p.m. every swimming day. Setting up colourful chairs and a table on our deck, and seeing the view through a pretty bouquet. Watching the red geraniums I planted on the second day of our visit flourish. Some good walks and photo-taking excursions in the Vesuvius area. Watching the Perseid meteor shower in the dark of our back yard on a hot summer night, and hearing the exclamations of our invisible neighbours doing the same thing. A trip home on a small ferry where the workers and passengers formed a friendly little community as we plowed through Active Pass in the dark. And finally, the sunset that prompted me to find out who the heck began that "sun sinks slowly in the west" business anyway.

Flowers on a table on our deck add colour to the background scenery.

Mr. Darcy and the red geraniums.

 

These are the boats we see every day when we swim at Vesuvius Beach.

Vesuvius Beach, supposedly the warmest on the island. People from all over the island come here to swim, and in the evening, often bring a picnic supper.

The chairs of the Vesuvius Beach Indolent Society, occupied from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. on hot days in summer. You sit on a chair or on the log and talk. When you're hot, you go for a swim. Repeat. 

Seaweed, or "vegetable salad" on the beach. Some days, the water is soupy with seaweed, and sometimes there are jellyfish. On the best days, the water is warm and clear.

A pretty little gate on one of the properties bordering Vesuvius Beach. 

One of the scenes I photographed during walks in the Vesuvius area. This is an arbutus tree by some stairs leading down to Booth Bay.