The soul of our province is as much where we have been…as where we are going.

Walking to the water’s edge, we quickly kicked off our flip-flops and waded into the deliciously cool ocean water…seaweed bits of all colour swirled around our feet as we dug our toes into the sand, relishing the spa like gentle scrubbing.

Looking up, I tossed my hair over one shoulder and simply took in the incredible majesty of nature. Tonight for the first time in ages, a mist was kissing the horizon, moving and shimmering in the waning August sun in a swirl of mauve…indigo…blush…deep breathe in…then exhale slowly…

Ahhhh…It was a magical swim.

As the sun set and the clouds swirled you couldn’t tell where the sea ended and the sky began, and even the very few people on shore were sitting in the comfortable silence familiar to those who are able to feel the spirit of a place….and know words simply detract from the moment.

And I swear I could hear Into the Mystic play…

Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly
Into the mystic…

As I waded back to search out my flip-flops, I spotted something that made me smile…

There, swaying to and fro in the pristine water at my feet..a seaweed heart. 🙂

Now those with no soul would say it’s just a piece of seaweed. But those with soul will appreciate that on this weekend it seemed as if the sea knew how much I love this land, and my love affair with the ocean has been long and passionate 🙂

Tonight…I’m thinking of Rafe.

Not many loved this province like he did and he taught me a valuable lesson on the importance of ones soul, and why that soul matters when you want to save something, in the comments section here:

“Laila – if you live to 90, never stop writing pieces like this. If you do, you will have lost that little guiding light of faith which tells us all, but even more tells you, that you still care. I may have told you – after all at my age I’m entitled to forget things – when I was a little boy my mother and I would lie on the lawn and create figures from the clouds. If Mom saw, say, a rabbit and I couldn’t make it out, she would laugh and say “Rafe, you have no soul”. I’ve never forgotten and when trying to save something from destruction, I always ask, “man, have you no soul?””

I still care…and while that little guiding light of faith burned low for a while, it’s still burning. And BC is worth fighting for. So many people who flee the city on weekends trying to reconnect with the land,confirm that the soul of a place has an intrinsic value to society no one can assign monetary value to…without these places we would lose what humanity we have left.

Where ever you are and however you spend this holiday, I hope you find the spirit of the place and embrace it on this BC day long weekend.❤Think about what it might be like in BC 50 years from now…..and how we can ensure the places we revere and retreat to, will still be here for those who come behind us. The soul of our province is as much where we have been, as it is where we are going. 🙏

Happy BC day my friends!