This place transformed itself, and us, with grit, like the foreign invader that gets inside an oyster and is polished to make a pearl. It is over now. I am going home to the mountains, but I went to the beach in Tofino at dusk to dark yesterday, and something happened; the way you think something is one way, and you become sure, and then alchemy occurs and it’s another way, altogether. A changed thing that looks nothing like its former self, but it is that which it was, because in its essence, it has to be all that; that which it is and that which it was.

It is true that something foreign had to come to this place. That was us. We weren’t from here. It is also true that we were like grit. I was unprepared to stop what needed to be done, even though others might have thought it didn’t need to be done, or that I had no real idea of what needed to be done. But this is only sandy words that get washed away when the tide comes in and out again. Something needed a sense of ‘permanency’ here; it was ragged and lifeless, it needed to be resurrected from the dead, even though Romeo might say we nearly killed ourselves doing it. It needed something to grow here, to take root, to make deep roots, to sustain itself. This is what we did, even though I cannot take credit for it, as if it was a planned idea, because only one step came, then the next, singularly unveiled. It was lodged from some deep inside thought onto the outside world. The thought said, ‘You need to restore this land here on the sand.’

There were many reasons not take on this work: effort, knowledge, money, madness! There were many reasons to take on this work: effort, knowledge, money, madness! But the primary reason was undeniaby, decidedly, and persistently presented; the creative force within all things, including me, would ‘under no circumstances!’ rest until it did this deed…even if this killed us, as Romeo emphasized, again.

So, we planted plants in hundreds, we planted shrubs, an orchard of fruit, and a row of tall, thirsty, Ironwoods that coloured fall uncharacteristically on this weathered shore. These, because someone once said, ‘Someone plants a tree so someone can sit in the shade.’ Sometimes, duty calls. A responsibility to leave things better for those who are to follow.

Romeo dug the ground, which, though sandy, was packed with hardened rock. This paradox began a trend of the same until the realization that there was a force greater than ourselves orchestrating this hell-pressed, heaven-sent project could not be denied. Its message beat into us. Here, too, was a foreign ‘invader’ saying, ‘Churn me! Create me!’ Romeo pounded the shovel and pick-axe turning stone to soil…until he began to boil.

I saw the transformation. From dust to worms. Scrub to roses. Peach, yellow, pink, you’d think you knew it would come all along…the flowers abounded and the bees and birds responded. I saw Romeo, too. He went from city slicker to a farm-boy machine…after the animal left.

I watched him change from the corner of my eye. I wanted to hide. He grew bigger. Bolder. Colder…while breathing fire. A DRAGON APPEARED! One that wasn’t happy being chained to his lair. I thought I’d leave him right there! Pack my pack and take myself back. Go home! But left alone, to brew, his fire subdued. He churned. Till that foreign invader transformed Darth Vader, and he carried his burdens with ‘The Force’ all his own.

When it was done, I knew it. There was nothing more to it. The couple that bought it were exactly the right fit; saying, ‘It checked off every box on our list. We’re so happy with it!’

We left to Tofino in the afternoon, for the last time before we move from this place. It was the reason we came to Van island. Initially. I heard The Sea. She was calling to me. But we took a detour east, and landed on that stretch of beach, still close enough to visit. Frequently.

I walked the Tofino beach that evening. She knew we were leaving. Yet She said I wouldn’t go.

‘I know,’ She said with amend.

‘You think it worked out in the end. That the effort, and the learning, and the money, and the madness were transformed into something beautiful. And it’s now sold.’

Then, She  ebbed. Then, She flowed.

‘This is true. But the point in all of this is that; what really needed to be done is, simply, you needed to come. Here. To where you are right NOW. That within, and all along, while these happenings were consuming your thoughts and scraping your mind; that effort, that learning, that money, that madness!, that time, you were forming into something brand new. Alchemy; from that old you.

’You can leave now,’ She waved.

‘But you will always be here.

’You are not from here. It’s true.

’But you can no longer claim to be a foreigner.

‘You are still full of grit!’ She spit!

Her spray splashed and I laughed! Hahahahaha! I dashed from Her frothing white-caps!

Then out came The Word, that enormous unheard-of roar from Her massive sacred floor…

‘Still……..inside……….YOU CANNOT HIDE!………………………your Ocean Pearl’.

Then, She waved. Then, She waved some more.

I left Her, then. When you love someone, you let them go.

Love,

Juliet