When I was little, and we read that caribou subsisted on lichen, the notion seemed hardly credible. But it turns out that the farther north one gets, the furrier the lichen gets. It's still not the Iron Chef's idea of a no-brainer, but it's more credible. (And it's EVERYWHERE.)
Victoria's forests and trees were affecting, in no small part because the oaks and the other trees are famous for their lushness and because they gnarl and twist picturesquely.
In the same vein as the oak in the pasture. Black-and-white "film" loves a textured juxtaposition of hard, chromed lines against the natural swirl of vegetaion.
Digital cameras' ability to frame practically anything just how you want it invites the recapitulation of familiar forms, like berries with droplets (in the pond album) or "forlorn tree in a field."
Those of you who follow fungus will not be shocked to learn that ample exists in moist, chilly British Columbia. This particularly nice specimen of rubbery, flappity undead third-kingdom stuff appealed to Joe.
The combination of hawthorns and rose vines was particularly appealing at Quick's Bottom, where we saw trumpeter swans and a pileated woodpecker pair.
The weather was not sent from central casting, we were told. Sea lions watched the boat like eager, particularly graceful swimming dogs.