Taken with a Meyer-Optik Görlitz Oreston 50 mm f/1.8, a vintage standard prime lens produced in East Germany from 1965 to 1970, just before Meyer-Optik was absorbed into Pentacon. #vintagelens

Another look at the floor of the temperate rainforest of Vancouver Island. A fallen tree collects enough moss that ferns start to grow on it as well.

A fallen old-growth cedar over Craig Creek in Nanoose is one of the spots that I go to for the healing beauty of the forest. I love to breathe in the air of the woods, and expel any worldly weight accumulated. #forest

Kwotlenemo, lake of dreams. I will be back soon.

Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed... Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders. Henry David Thoreau Vintage Japanese glass from the 60s interprets modern spring like the impressionists of old.

Spring has come to the village. So many blossoms in the neighbourhood.

Like an oasis, a mossy spot on a Vancouver Island creek provides sustenance for the soul, and an antidote to modern life. Grateful. #forestbathing

“Love speaks in flowers. Truth requires thorns.” ― Leigh Bardugo, The Language of Thorns: Midnight Tales and Dangerous Magic #flowers

There were afternoons when we would just sit by the creek and let the sound of the water soothe our souls. This same creek dries up to a trickle in the summer. #rainforest

Classic west coast rainforest scenes, where moss grows thick on the slowest moving of the denizens. #moss

Many are stubborn in pursuit of the path they have chosen, few in pursuit of the goal. Friedrich Nietzsche My path is more clear, and it has moss. Lots of moss.

“Now she’s lit by the warm orange spreading from the horizon as not-quite-day, becomes not-quite-night” ― David Levithan , Every Day #sunset

Moss reigns in the local forest, and only the flow of water seems to cease its growth. #forest

Back on Vancouver Island, and back in the woods. This little spot on Craig Creek is my go-to for greens and burbling brook vibes. An oasis in a mad world. #nature

A refuge from the madness of this modern world, the calmness of a seated Buddha statue brings me peace.

Now, Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river She’s wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters And the sun pours down like honey on our Lady of the harbor And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers #flowers #leonardcohen Leonard Cohen - Suzanne

Rainforest rambles on Gabriola Island. A seasonal creek bed makes a great photo op. #rainforest

The kaleidoscope of spring colours can be quite intoxicating at golden hour. Home. I love where I live. #bokeh #goldenhour #vintagelens

Dad tells us the story of how Georgia Joy came to be with us, a favourite of ours. Gabriola Island, BC. #dogs #storytime #monochrome

Spring seems to be making an appearance here in the village. I love the changing of the seasons.

Spring is a bit early here in Steveston, it seems. Vintage Japanese glass just has a perfect vibe for the season. Super Takumar 50mm f1.4.

Just one bite, what’s the worst that could happen? #mushroom #dog

Summer dreams: the lady in red. #dreamy #ocean #photography

I never made promises lightly And there have been some that I’ve broken But I swear in the days still left We’ll walk in fields of gold Gordon Matthew Sumner #home

The majesty of the coastal temperate rainforest is still palpable in monochrome.

The lake, that healer. Kwotlenemo, on the traditional lands of the Xaxli’p First Nation.

Summer dreams: Gabriola Island charms #summer

“Well, darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear And I wrap my fear around me like a blanket I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it I’m crawling on your shores” indigogirlsmusic - Closer To Fine

Moonlight driven, we ran through the night on horses of aluminum and carbon fibre. A flashback to five years ago on Vancouver Island, on the bike that I named Il Corvo, The Crow.

Winter dreams: frosty leaves and warm hearts.

Summer dreams: the ocean beckons.

Throwback Thursday; a spring ride out to the gorgeous Kennedy River on central Vancouver Island five years ago. I had nicknamed that Triumph Street Triple “The Crow”. Flights were made.

Like a cathedral, the cedars and ferns surround me in the rainforest. Moss my bed, stone my chair, I am at home in these woods.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” ― Martin Luther King Jr.

Threw my bottle to the ocean, She never wrote me back All the countless days along the sea of blue Learned the language of the Mockingbird She took and twisted all my words Yeah, I’m just trying to find my way to you @gregoryalanisakov - Suitcase Full Of Sparks

Summer dreams: off-leash runs in the rainforest. Nanoose Bay, BC, Canada.

“But, like ivy, we grow where there is room for us.” — Miranda July I have found my space, and I am growing.

The flood channels of the Englishman River are always great places to explore. There is peace in the quiet burble of the waters.

An afternoon nap in the village. Life slows down and what is really important becomes obvious.

Kwotlenemo, on the lands of the Xaxli’p First Nation. We spend the first two weeks of summer there every year, and it is always gorgeous. Soapberries and Saskatoons abound, with wild strawberries underfoot.

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit. Robert Louis Stevenson

Autumn dreams: the last of the hydrangeas. Home.

“Spring swallowed winter like Bitter swallowed sweet You were tired of missing the stars Tripping on your feet Don′t mistake for brokeness What is just a fragile state of opening Of coming out of the night Into day” @cardiffcraig - Recovering

Winter dreams: Tanner James on Vancouver Island on a beautiful snowy day.

Summer dreams: the Kennedy River in central Vancouver Island. The memories of my spirited motorcycle runs out to this river will stay with me forever.

Knarston Creek winds through the hills of Lantzville, BC, like a snake. Winter flows make it absolutely magical.

The evening walk in the village did not disappoint. I am blessed to live where I do, and eternally grateful for all that I have.

The dungeoness. She who holds the keys. Island days, island ways.

Kwotlenemo, the lake of dreams. Summer wildflowers and berries.