Idle thoughts from Stuart Island

Various bits from my journal:

The late evening is settling about the Canadian Gulf Islands. The afternoon fog has continued to thicken and makes the islands float above the sea on the wings of fairies. Down the Strait somewhere south and out of view a large tanker is sounding its fog horn, warning that any boats in the way better move of be under the rick of being run over. I am surprised that the fog only stay to the western side of Haro Strait. At a quarter to 9 there are no boats within view of Turn Point. It feels ‘normal’ when it’s like this, unlike the freeway it is during midday. During the day at least 20 large tankers, several tug and barges, and 100+ small private boats pass the lighthouse. Additionally there seems to be an endless stream of sea planes and helicopters, their must be an air corridor directly over the south banks of Stuart Island. The sun is beginning to set, the warm colors cause an alpine glow affect on the property and cast an angelic halo around Roses’ body. I think of the whole day she enjoys this time the most. Stretched out on the deck, me scratching her belly and soaking up the last rays of the sun. No people around to bother us or interrupt ‘out’ time. Thisis also the time when the deer come to eat the grass in the field. Given the chance I have no doubt she would chase them, however she instead elects to keep me company with watchful ears and eyes tuned on her ‘intruders’.
9:40 pm, a group of 12 kids from camp Nor’wester come running down to the point, not safe, strange, puts me on edge.