on the adventures you don’t quite have time for –
Rainforest islands fly by beneath as we travel through squalls midair. Opportunity for a few days exploring with friends sometimes means a mad dash to the west coast. Even when you don’t have time to drop everything and go.
We free fall into timeless times; being present to soak in the rain, sandy shores, wolf tracks, and rugged coast. Days well spent; uplifted by a pack of humans who make you feel like this is what it’s all about.
@max.lowe takes in the scene en route to even wilder shores.
The days are beginning to begin early again as the promise of summer looms somewhere out there on the horizon. Alarm clocks set to pre-dawn hours, breakfast cooked up to go, friends encouraging you from the warmth of shelter out into the morning chill. We just miss the wolves this morning; but fresh tracks carved by elusive paws never fail to send a thrill up my spine. The wolves are on dawn patrol, and so are we.
@lindsayhenwood on a magic morning between the rain.
Trekking through ancient ecosystems, wisdom can be found in the moss and bark. Lessons of the connection between death and growth is discovered in the damp foliage that blankets everything. The pound of surf echoes through the rainforest long after we part from the rugged shore.
@max.lowe checks out newfound elders in the rainforests lining the shore.
Living in a culture that promotes an excess of busy isn’t easy; the value placed on doing, as opposed to being, can leave us burnt. Perhaps both have their place – both being and doing fill up parts of ourselves that need to be nourished regularly. Striking a balance is something I am still tripping over. Time itself seems as elusive as the wolves we seek to catch a glimpse of.
But if I’m being honest with myself, there is always time for both.
I often try to trick myself into believing otherwise, letting priorities shift to make space for the urgent rather than the important. Doing rather than being. Deadlines and emails threaten to take the place of tapping into creative energy and exploring wild places. At times it feels like there is no time for anything besides the work that needs to be done to protect this planet.
While we cannot create time, we are inexplicably fortunate to be able to spend it largely how we choose. Whether we spend it deliberately, give it away freely, savour it in solitude, share it with friends, or maybe let it pass us by; it’s up to us to choose wisely.
I am learning there is always time, until there is not. Perhaps the key is to be fully present, no matter what you decide to spend it on.
The beaches seem infinite out west, especially when the tide is out. When you’re up at 5, the mornings have a timelessness to them that gives you a taste of freedom. By 8, you have already absorbed enough beauty to keep that spark in your eye ablaze for the rest of the week.
@petethicke glasses an osprey fishing through rain and shine.
Good light and good friends, sharing space with the coastal wolves who know this place as home. Being here, now becomes a priority. Soaking up every drop of sun, splash of rain, grain of sand is the only intention.
rays peak through treetops while rain prevails, with @max.lowe in the thick of it.
Mornings shift into afternoons which burst into evenings. Frequent food quests fill transitions between beaches and rainforests, the sea and the sky. All of a sudden we are airborne – thanks to adventurous humans who fill these special places with character and facilitate exploration. @atleoair @krystlestel
out west: the nights are as eternal as the days. @sitka_
The float plane leads us to hot springs trickling into the ocean. Piping hot waterfalls fall into pools that grow cooler as the water meanders its way to the sea, eventually mixing with the salted chill of the Pacific.
@lindsayhenwood is the gold.
When I do take the time to make a mad dash for places like these to explore with friends like these, I remember that getting outside and immersing ourselves in wilderness may be the exact thing that does end up saving the planet. Appreciation sparks action. People will protect what they love.
The rain poured in buckets those few days, soaking into the forest, sea, rain jackets and bare skin. Smiles cracked faces in the best of ways and we all parted paths after a handful of time sprinkled out west.
For now, skinned knees and salty skin, pine needles stuck to the pads of my toes are all the reminders I need to carry on doing my best to protect this place.
’til next time.