We were amongst the rhododendrons. There was something bewildering, even shocking, about the suddenness of their discovery. The woods had not prepared me for them. They startled me with their crimson faces, massed one upon the other in incredible profusion, showing no leaf, no twig, nothing but the slaughterhouse red, luscious and fantastic, unlike any rhododendron plant I had seen before. ― Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca
ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? by Ralph Waldo Emerson
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook. The purple petals, fallen in the pool, Made the black water with their beauty gay; Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool. And court the flower that cheapens his array. Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, Then Beauty is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! I never thought to ask, I never knew: But, in my simple ignorance, suppose The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.
When anxious, uneasy, and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, cleanses me with its noise, and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused.
Jervis Inlet runs 55 mi (89 km) from its head at the mouth of the Skwawka River to its opening into the Strait of Georgia near Texada Island. It is one of the principal inlets of the British Columbia Coast, about 59 mi (95 km) northwest of Vancouver, and the third of such inlets north of the 49th parallel, the first of which is Burrard Inlet, Vancouver’s harbor.
It is the deepest fjord on the British Columbia coast with a maximum depth of 670 m (2,200 ft).
If dogs run free, then why not we Across the swooping plain? My ears hear a symphony Of two mules, trains and rain The best is always yet to come That’s what they explain to me Just do your thing, you’ll be king If dogs run free
If dogs run free, why not me Across the swamp of time? My mind weaves a symphony And tapestry of rhyme Oh, winds which rush my tale to thee So it may flow and be To each his own, it’s all unknown If dogs run free
If dogs run free, then what must be Must be, and that is all True love can make a blade of grass Stand up straight and tall In harmony with the cosmic sea True love needs no company It can cure the soul, it can make it whole If dogs run free