To Everything There Is a Season…

To Everything There Is a Season…


Metchosin - 01-3Timing, they say, is everything.  A moment too late, a moment too soon, and you can completely miss out.  Doing the right thing, but at the wrong time, is often no different than doing the wrong thing.

As a photographer, I’ve learned to focus on the details – not just the subject of the photograph, but also its relationship to the landscape that surrounds it, the way the breeze pushes parts of the subject around, or the way the light and shadows interact within the frame.  These things change, moment to moment.  A good photograph isn’t just about capturing an interesting subject, it’s also about capturing a moment in time – a moment when it all comes together, when the elements combine to create magic.  It’s timing.  It’s everything.

So it is with nature too.  Everything happens when the time is right, when the natural cycles intersect in the right combinations.  Cycles of light and dark, of warmth and cold, of rain and drought.  Cycles that are fleeting and cycles that are seasonal.  When change comes, it can be subtle, or it can be breathtaking.

There’s a little, old church in the community of Metchosin.  Built in 1873, the church of St. Mary the Virgin and its adjacent graveyard is now primarily a heritage site.  It’s a pleasant site, well-looked-after by its volunteers, and the graveyard is interesting with its numerous gravestones of pioneer Metchosin families.  But every year – when the timing is just right – something magical happens.

It happens in late March/early April, when the Fawn Lilies bloom.  A rather nondescript grass landscape transforms into a sea of white blossoms, as the lilies take over the site.  They are everywhere, seemingly all of a sudden, and they are spectacular.  I’m not sure how they came to be here – whether the graveyard was established on a meadow already containing the lilies, or whether the lilies came afterward (either naturally or by some form of intervention), but they are certainly a welcome sight.

If we can get our timing right, Sandra and I make an annual pilgrimage to the site, to bask in the true glory of nature’s bounty.  It’s a wonderful feeling to walk for a little while among the flowers – it lifts the soul.

And then we head across the street to My Chosen Café for their toasted cinnamon buns (the best in town).  Lifts the soul even further.

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