Calm Before the Storm, Horne Lake

The sun glistened still on the water, the mist hung low in the sky.
The calm before the storm?

 

Friends at Last, Horne Lake

We bonded quietly, content in the moment as the stream rushed alongside us and the moss squished beneath our toes.

Tales of the Fungi, Horne Lake

“But I am such a fun guy,” sobbed the Fun Guy, alone in his home.

DinoSTERS, Horne Lake

“Three Horns never play with Long Necks.”
Land Before Time

Three Horns on Horne Lake

Triceratops and TriSARAHtops
Canoe Adventures on Horne Lake.

Fallen for Fall, Malahat

We are hours from our destination but neither of us care. It is the journey that excites us. It is the journey that matters.

 

Beneath the Sleeping Giant, Horne Lake

To the left a sleeping giant rests, laying flush across the lake. He stares straight up into the stars, at once ambivalent and awed, still as a mountain.

To the right we congregate around the campfire, exchanging stories and staring deep into the darkness that surrounds us.

A crack sounds from the woods, a broken twig or crunched leaf.

A crackle springs from the fire, sparks flying into the night.

We are at peace.

Visitors of Erskine, Salt Spring Island

I came to call but could not fit through the door. Alas, I shall have to eat the cookies alone.

Moving Fast

Watch your back.

Lynn Canyon, Compulsive Counting

Flash Fiction, a short story written in 100 words or less.

I always count the steps as I walk. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

I count all the way to the top as I place one foot down and then the other. Each step is deliberate, careful.

Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

My eyes flit back and forth, watching the steps while trying to take in the views. Trees, rocks, moss, I see everything that makes this beautiful. I see but do not fully appreciate.

My attention is still on the stairs, on each step bringing me up, up, up. (Or down, down, down.)

I have to count.