By Maryanna Gabriel
Our west coast has many moods and my recent visit to Pacific
Rim National Park, showed me them all. I found myself on the “Wild Pacific
Trail” drawn by the haunting bell coming from the sea where there was an
 |
| Mossy Trees-Wild Pacific Trail |
unmanned lighthouse. The first lighthouse had blown away. A horn moaned
rhythmically as waves and wind pummeled the rocky shore. Here I read it was
the “graveyard of the Pacific” as many ships had gone down, including a barque
where 28 men and one woman drowned at the turn of the century. That’s funny, I
thought. I had dreamed of a woman by my bed in a long dress the night before. It wasn't a malevolent presence but I wasn't too keen on the visit. Could it have
been her, I wondered? Amazingly the shoreline was lined with grasses where the
sound of frogs calling were my only reply. What
a funny place for frogs, I thought to myself. The rain redoubled and I
backtracked to trees along the trail that were storm-bent into protective sculptured shapes
forming alcoves. A lunch at Sobo’s with old friends in Toffino seemed a good
step, and I relaxed with a comforting and delicious bowl of curried mussels and clams. Finding a different bed for the night was what I did soon after.
