Springing into a World
The glass door is open and sun is dappling through the old Cypress to reach parts of my balcony. I’ve just vacuumed to chase away dust bunnies, since allergy season is here. These days, my eyes are constantly tearing. I always call it my “country song chapter” when hay fever gets like this. I’m crying so often, it looks like my dog died, my man ran off, and my truck broke down.
Ahh, but the flowers!
Photo: Snapped this two nights ago. Spring is late to come to Victoria this year, after we got 1-2 feet of snow in mid-February, but it’s stunning as usual. This is a heritage home in James Bay, Victoria.
It’s funny. I never realized I was allergic to grass until I moved here in 2012. The coastal cliffs are covered with the dreaded “true grasses,” and the havoc it wreaks is somethin’ else.
I’m enjoying the opening volley of spring, though. It’s been years since I’ve gotten to enjoy Victoria in spring. Last year, I arrived in July and I had to spend my first two weeks being very hidey-holey in my hotel. Quarantine from interprovincial travel wasn’t necessary, but there was a lot of social pressure to not be out there, in people’s faces, as the Germy Interprovincial Traveller.
At the time, Vancouver Island was COVID-free, and it was discombobulating to step from Ottawa into the disease-free idyll of Vancouver Island, where life felt normal and where outsiders where shunned.
In Ottawa, it had been illegal (until just before I left) to even sit on park benches. As someone living in under 600 square feet with windows that opened just 4” and no balcony, I was in an incredibly dark state of mind. I suspect it wasn’t until September that I really began relaxing, but then the cases began increasing here.
Now, COVID’s at home here on the island like it is everywhere else. But what’s different is I’ve found my groove. I’m less scared. I’m lucky, because I can largely avoid risks, unlike so many other people. I keep to myself, get groceries delivered, and always have a mask and sanitizer with me. But I have a wild, stunning coast just five minutes from my door, and I know where my soul and peace are if things get wonky – there, overlooking the sea.
Still – springtime.
Photo: Fresh green grass! BEHOLD — ALLERGY CENTRAL. And yet it’s among my favourite places on Earth. Yeah, after 25 countries, it’s still in the ranks of places I most want to be, This is Holland Point, but the whole stretch we call “Dallas Road” because, well, it’s along Dallas Road.
There’s something about this spring, as news of vaccines rolling out increases, that feels more hopeful and promising than an average spring does.
My uncle’s getting his shot soon. One of my close friends is designated an “essential visitor,” and got her vaccine to visit her 99-year-old dad. News of such things makes me giddy and hopeful.
Sure, I may have to wait a little longer, but I applaud my provincial government for really tackling those who most need the vaccine first. I’m willing to do my civil duty of staying home, staying safe, until my time comes.
It’s so much easier to do now, with a balcony, the beach nearby.
Sometime in the next few days, I’ll get the golden email, the glorious news, the sounding of the COME YE, COME YE trumpet – my soil and garden germination trays will have arrived at the garden center!
For the first time in a DECADE, I get to have a balcony garden! For the first time EVER, I will be trying to grow all manner of veggies. I have never had a balcony this large as a homeowner. It’s south-facing and all glass, so everything will get afternoon sun and grow into pretty, beautiful, tasty goodness.
As I travelled, so many regions were hardcore about home gardens, and something about being able to just snip some tarragon or pluck a couple cherry tomatoes off a balcony struck me as a deeply envious scenario.
I’m sure it will be wonderful for my allergies, but you know what’ll be even better? Making a salad with my own lettuce. That’s what.
It’s a topic I’d like to think more on – home and what it means. After being “home free” for four years and then having The Wrong Home in a pandemic and going $10,000 in debt to move across the country for a home in a place I knew I loved, I assure you, I celebrate the value of “home.”
Bigger ideas to explore in months ahead, I suppose.
In the meantime, it’s a day of domesticity and writing for clients ahead of me. I’m tucking into my first homemade sourdough bagel, brewing up some strong coffee, and getting on with a gorgeous sunny, easy-as-it-goes kinda spring day.
Have a wonderful day wherever you are. The squirrel staring at me from the Cypress seems to wish you the same.
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