Get here, however you can.
… or inflatable dinghy, if you’re on a budget, desperate, and have a good back. (I hear they have a great ferry system as well. That would work too.)
Doesn’t matter how. Just get here.
The rest, like the shrimp, salmon, and tuna that arrive fresh at the local docks, just kind of flows from there.
This is great news if you’re a water baby.
For both of the people in this photo, the pure sand beach and altogether lovely temperature of Kye Bay at low tide is one of the best features of Comox Valley in the summer.
FYI, the one with his hoohoo closest to the water line is less enthusiastic about the actual “swimming” part than the one in the fetching straw hat, but still… They both get almost unmanageable with excitement when they get within sniffing distance of the sand dollars.
Just ask Rick.
In the summer, at least, everything seems to revolve around hydration, tides, and gardening micro-seasons.
For instance, take Rick, harvesting the obscenely juicy and dark-fleshed delicious plums from the bountiful tree in our back yard.
We didn’t even fully value it for the beauty it was until a fat and altogether self-serving raccoon started visiting at midnight with this singular thought in mind:
“There must be a thousand plums on this tree! What if I fill up on a few dozen sub-standard plums per night when THE. PERFECT. PLUM. is just one bite away from me, and I’m too full to stay the course?! I know… I’ll just take one bite of twenty per night and chuck the dross into the staff’s fetching grounds until I’m sure I got THE BEST ONE. Then, I will know my life’s mission was complete.”
Little bandit-masked bastard.
Every morning for two weeks, we picked one-bite specimens of perfectly ripe plums off our lawn before the no-good drunken wasps sidled up to the bar for their morning “hair o’ the raccoon that bit ye” nip.
The plums that we managed to beat them to the punch were incredible.
… while the lavender in the front yard provided ample consolation prizes to the heretofore ripped off plum-seeker bees.
Even afternoon dog walks from our front door have an H2O-ness to them that will rock your world.
Don’t feel like moving at all from the homestead a few hundred yards from the ocean? It’s understandable.
No problem. We’ll bring Big Fat Peonies from the front yard in water vessels directly to the back deck contemplation zone.
Of course, you might have a bit more ambition than that…
… in which case, you might want to take an easy deep rain-forest stroll to…
… more water, and beautiful rocks, and secret swimming holes.
This is Nymph Falls, and if you decide to visit in October, this is a site of the ladder-jumping salmon run.
Almost everyone’s hair starts looking the same.
Of course, don’t take my word for it: come sea for yourself. I’m just the humble orator of this tale, and since the (red) snapping of this photo, I’ve been further reduced to stock (photography).