The Flashlight & the Bird

After a wet and wintry Monday I was blessed with 2 brilliantly sunny days off this week.

On Tuesday most of my walking was doing chores and I didn’t really get a chance to stretch out and enjoy the sun but yesterday I got up, skipped my usual routine and walked along the seawall in the direction of 2nd Beach.

By the time I had reached it, I had made the decision to see if the seawall was opened past Siwash Rock. I had not walked past 3rd Beach since they blocked off the seawall after the huge windstorm that devastated the park two years ago now.

Although it was clear and sunny, it was cold and I wore my wool hat and gloves without generating much body heat despite the energy of the walk.

By the time I got to the water park on the opposite side of the Lion's Gate Bridge near the bronze mermaid I was exhausted and decided that I would hitch a ride on the free shuttle back to Lost Lagoon. I climbed the hill and began walking along the highway searching for a shuttle stop.

I changed my mind once the highway started to climb but when I got back down to the seawall reversed my decision again. I decided to take it one step at a time. I have never taken the walk up the road to Prospect Point and it was interesting to see how the highway passed over the entrance to the bridge.

Up on top you get a clear vista of the bridge and the North Shore through the elegant structure itself and on the roadway there are 4 miniature reclining lions, their manes sculpted into what appear to be stylized art deco Egyptian headgear.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got to Prospect Point but the concession stand was open and there were a contingent of folks in the restaurant lunching on burgers and fish and chips. Since I hadn’t eaten, I browsed the menu but was unwilling to drop $12 on lunch and so settled for a slice of banana bread from the self serve counter.

I walked out into the bright sunshine and sat on a metal stool to rest and enjoy when I heard the familiar clang of the shuttle bell. Good timing I thought as on the half hour walk up to the point it had not passed me once and so I leapt up to board it when it stopped.

The driver greeted me in a friendly way as I climbed up the steps and asked if I had paid for the tour. I thought this was the free shuttle I stated. He informed me that the free shuttle only runs in the summer until September and so I dutifully dismounted and headed into the men’s washroom.

Standing at the urinal I was startled by a quick movement to my right and saw that a beautiful charcoal gray bird with blue, red and white markings was trapped and trying to escape through the clear skylight. I tried to coax him down and while doing so was joined by another elderly man who took the further step of climbing up onto the sinks counter and trying to scare the bird out.

The bird however flew to the opposite side of the washroom and hid itself in some of the roof beams, peeking out at us periodically.

The other man said “It is making the mistake of following its own instinct” and gave up and left but I spent a few more minutes whistling to the bird and trying to talk it down, even extending my arm towards it as I know some of the park birds are comfortable feeding out of the hands of humans. This one responded to my whistling in a remarkable way, coming out to listen to my words and cocking his head as though in agreement.

I was sure the bird would flutter down any minute but it soon disappeared back into a crevice and continued to peek out at me. After 10 minutes, I gave up and left. It was a beautiful sunny day and the sun was visible through the doorway. In the silence of an empty room the bird would surely puzzle out its escape without my help.

And so I began the long trek back to English Bay along the highway and expected to walk that route back all the way until I came to a newly graveled trail leading down to my right parallel but lower than the highway, heading into the trees. It was sign posted Merilees Trail and though I was skeptical of following a path I didn’t know when I was already over-tired there was a smaller sign attached that read 3rd Beach 1.3 km.

In a few minutes I found myself in a solitary landscape surrounded by enormous fallen trunks and broken trees, in the heart of the path of devastation that the windstorm had taken two years ago. There were signs that read Newly Planted, Stay on Trail…and small fluttering ribbons that indicated where many volunteers had replaced the old with the new.

I could no longer hear any sounds from the main road and could very well have been on a solitary logging road somewhere in the wilds of Vancouver Island. The road dipped and climbed and I was offered the most amazing views of the ocean below which now appeared in emerald and aqua hues and almost tropical from this height.

As I was now quite tired I picked my way slowly over the large and uneven hunks of broken stone that were the equivalent of gravel and helped preserve the trail under the weight of parks board vehicles that would have to negotiate it. It was indeed slow going and I prayed that the trail would not come to a dead stop somewhere and that I would not have to retrace my steps up to the main road.

I arrived home utterly exhausted around 4:30 but it seemed like hours more had passed since I left.

Last night I dreamed that I was talking to my mother, and the trapped bird appeared on the wall of the house we were in. Alongside it was a flashlight and they both appeared to be inanimate mounted objects until the bird fluttered away from the wall. It began to talk to me in a human voice and landed on my outstretched hand, the tiny talons gripping almost too tightly until I relaxed.

It communicated to me quite clearly as if to let me know that all was well, but reminding me to pay attention to apparently insignificant everyday happenings whose messages are sometimes all too easy to miss.