“Everybody hates Mondays!”
I couldn’t help but reply: “I am joyful on Mondays!”
To which she quickly answered, “Yeah, but it’s because you’re Eric!”
“Happy Monday Everybody!”
"Is that a tanker ship adrift in the swell, like the Russian freighter that ran out of power on the West Coast of Haida Gwaii??? Hum... No. It looks anchored. We're safe, for the moment..."
...Waking up this morning, after a very short four and a half hour sleep, maybe, I bolted out of bed to help out my dear sweetheart get ready to go to work, prepare her a quick brekky smoothie of mango juice mixed with strawberry kefir, a touch of cinnamon and a bunch of polyphenols packed dried fruit powder! A real breakfast of champion!
Both her and I rushed downstairs one after another and jumped in the car and drove away in a frenzy as we were cutting short on the punctuality line… As I ran out, I grabbed on to two of her bags, thinking she'd be grabbing the last one on her way out as she’d be seeing the last without the two I had taken. After all, she had placed her three bags there herself. I would have assumed she would have seen the last one on her way out as she would be looking for the bags on her way out.
Discussing her daughter comment on Mondays the day before, we laughed and couldn’t help myself but suggest that maybe, here on steemit.com, we should start a humorist column on Mondays and see who could come up with the funniest and craziest, strangest stories, just to perk us all up on this infamous day. Not to jinks ourselves, we cut short the very thought of sharing nasty ones…
Arriving by the first intersection, I see a tennis ball sitting there on the pavement, all by itself, no running golden retrievers insight anywhere. I suddenly break in with a “Could you imagine if humans were link our human’s best friends and just follow our instincts as we’d be seeing this ball right now?!?” Can you imagine the commotion?
Ten minutes later, we kiss each other goodbye, wishing each other a good day. She steps out closes the passenger’s door and open the back door where she fetches her 2 bags… “Where's my other bag?”, she says to me puzzled. In a lightning speed sharing of the results of my thinking process to her, we start laughing and decide it is no big deal. Nothing too important or necessary for today in there anyway, apparently… But, as one knows, surprises occur out of the blue and more often than otherwise hide synchronous reasons beyond our own awareness.
I suddenly realize why: We needed to go get some cash at the bank machine to be able to pay for the carpet cleaners. (Oups, as I write this I just now realized I have forgotten her son’s day out money… Darn!) O.k., back to writing now that plan B is in action for her son. Where were we? Oh, yeah, synchronicity hits us with the realization of why she had forgotten her bag at home. So, I leave her work place and upon arriving at the same intersection where I saw the tennis ball, an accident had happen. Two ladies talking to each other are seemingly arranging for civilized new location to relocate to as the traffic is quickly building behind them...
Arriving at home, the outside door is wide open! I'm thinking we must have just left to much in a hurry and the door, not fully latched, opened with the wind or something. I walk in, pick up her now famous third bag which contains the magic plastic debit card and run back up the steep moss and pine needle covered driveway. Within a few minutes from departing, I decide to drive right back home: I'm thinking I should bring my camera and take a few shots of the area's beauty and eventually share on steemit.com as well, while I have to be driving around anyway. I really don't like using fossil fuel inconsiderately so I maximize my movements and energies, as well as gas. A quick turn around up the hill brings me back to square one in a matter of 5 minutes.
Taking the familiarly known "Scenic View Road", I find the spot to take my very first shot from this location. About 70 meters from ocean level and having a fantastic wide open view on the Georgia Straight offer a magnificent opportunity, especially on sunset and sunrise times. I can't wait to come back for a good one to share with you all soon when the time is ripe. In the distance, there's a boat that looks like a military boat! After hearing the French CBC News about Vegas today, I wondered if I had missed something even more tragic before! After observing the vessel from a distance with the power of my potent 65X zoom view finder camera, I took a few shots. No one seemed in anymore of a rush than usual as the local, almost private, morning rush hour was building a foot or two behind me. No war here yet. Good, let's keep going.
After this pit-stop, I wanted to go to Taissia's school to drop off her "quasi-necessities". As I turn the corner of the street where her work is, there's an emergency banner across the entrance and a police officer assisted by a civilian blocking any vehicles from coming in. I park a few feet away and quickly realize that it must be Terry Fox Run for their school today and, judging by the music blasting out of the speakers, there's going to be a serious show happening here this morning. All the students and staff were outside, even daycare! My dear Lyubimaya, beloved in Russian, was out there carrying a little three year old and skirted by at least three more of them, impatient to get a piece of the action. The fire trucks with the complete fire crew was out there too, as if the police wasn't enough.
As I walked back to the car, I stop by the civilian and the police officer and they let me know that a full convoy is on its way. Not even two seconds later, sirens pop up and the show is on! Time to get out of there and deal with business. So, I drive back to this spot I wanted to take a picture of for weeks before heading out to Piper's Park, a beautiful little sea shore walk nearby where live now.
A short walk in the brisk air won't hurt and will surely do its job in managing to wake me up again, at least perk me up some more. As most of you, hopefully all of you, know, spending a lot of time behind the screen of a computer is a bit taxing on our eyes and body. A healthy schedule of low-impact sports such as walking in nature resets our body clock. Not that a good swim wouldn't do, but in temperatures surrounding 14 degrees, the Pacific Ocean is not as welcoming as a month ago where the water's surface must have reached passed the 80 degrees Fahrenheit!
Shoulder strapped on, the camera was almost vibrating, trying to get out there before my eye. The northwesterly 30 km/h winds made the first few hundred meters a bit of a chilly stroll. But, after crossing a dog on leach with its pedestrian curious about my camera bag and camera. Of course, a quick note about Steemit tossed into the conversation couldn't hurt. A few paces further, I see a tree Taissia told me, just corroborated by Miss Rhee as well a few moments ago, where the children used to run to and play for hours in this tree fort that stands as a castle in the literature of their family history. Wouldn't you like to play in there on a warm afternoon travelling back and forth between the ocean or its lagoon swimming in its waters or mudflats? Wow!
Another few hundred steps forward and I an called by one of the most iconic tree in the area, an arbutus, one of the gnarliest piece of vegetation around! I've always loved their presence, safe to climb silky smooth hardwood where its orange bark peels like paper off a wasp nest.
The area has more in terms of gnarly too, not to mention the fierce winds coming in during winter storms, the oak trees quite common to the area are a treasure to behold as well as to climb. A rather picturesque shoot is coming up with Taissia here. the very first time we came walking here, she sat on one of the branches reminiscing about old times when both her and I, in our respective countries, played in the fall leaves of oak trees, making piles of them and jumping in. Since I was a very young boy, about four years old, I remember the soft almond scent of oak. It carries me back to a very happy childhood playing with my little two years old sister, and our parents at the Aquarium of Quebec City, right beside the two big bridges, and overlooks the mighty St. Lawrence River.
Straying off to my right and away from the gravelly beaten path, a small rocky hill rises giving me a respite from an unfriendly breeze. Venturing up its flanks, stepping up edgy vertical granite protrusions and bending through a large leafy branch semi-tunnel, I quickly arrive at a rest point. Filled of foreign memories, a very appealing bench sits there, warm and welcoming in the morning light.
Not answering its call, I keep on going. Attracted by the heights and exquisite calm that radiates out of a little alcove found a few steps away, I notice a flying leaf, dead, dancing, twirling spiralling in the warm up swelling wind coming from the miniature bay 20 meters down where logs and seaweed squeeze themselves against the pebbles and crags for a new season of gatherings.
As I am about to do the crossing over to the main outcropping island, a delicate movement and iridescent green dot twinges on the corner of my eyes: A Female Rufus Hummingbird! Taking a breather or digesting her insectivorous breakfast maybe, she observed me for a few seconds before realizing that my camera was actually "looking" at her! In a classic whizzing descent, she flew off her perch and flew out of sight.
As seen on the picture found below, a few meters away on the other side of the arm of earth, a very peculiar community flourishes... The locals have to canoe, kayak or swim across the waters when the tides are too high or simply stay home. If the weather gets too nasty, one might be poised to anchor down for the time being. As soon as the tides are low enough, they can simply walk over to the mainland of Nanaimo. Would you dare living in such a place, so exposed to the elements and potential tidal waves? Risky business some would say! But they are trading their freedom of securities so rarely worried about that it leaves them probably emotionally almost impervious to the odds.
As I was on my way back to the vehicle, I took a little shot of the path I came from, before walking over the dried mudflats all the way back. This caricature was drawn on the foregrounds, I couldn't help myself: Rugged aged granite on which lichen has been growing for centuries persisting in the face of time carries the eye to the stark bundle of oak trees plunging into the reflecting light of meandering salt waters and shinny pebbles. In the background, bordered by the trees in the foreground and the ones in the background, the walkway back to the parking lot cuts thought inviting the eye to the ferry terminal.
As I was writing this episode, new rebounds form this Monday morning came knocking at our doors: "Tom Petty just past away 15 minutes ago.", the carpet cleaning lady shares with me... She continued the story by telling how she had the occasion of seeing him live and how struck she was by his soulful presence as an artist. He connected with her, in spite of her not knowing him at all before seeing him then. He had obviously carved his way into her heart.
I sincerely hope you all had a decent Monday, I sure look forward to reading something out of the ordinary, right out of strangeness, letters to bringing light out of darkness in the Humorist Monday Columns, under #happymondays, in our near future!
I would also appeal to you all by asking you if you have special requests as to subjects or writing styles you'd like to see me tackle in the next future. there are a few more tributes needed to be done relating to Salmon Glacier and 
Stay tuned, thanks for reading and, till then, keep on smiling and taking good care, namaste :)