Reflections from the backcountry

My favourite colour from today was this yellowy-greenish grey. I saw it in the partially clouded sky over a mountain on some island while we were paddling through the ferry crossing. Since it was still morning, I assumed it was left over from sunrise but now I feel like it occurred on its own. It looked like how it feels when hope turns into acceptance. When you realize what you wanted to happen may not, but that's okay because you've found something else. It looked like when you glance around and see that you've moved on from whatever one has to move on from and found a form of peace. It looked like Sunday mornings, like the calm after the storm, not before. And finally, it looked like happiness, but not the bursts you feel every so often, the kind that is pure, blissful and unapologetic. This is why I loved that colour. – Anonymous

 

I stood on the edge of a craggy sparkling piece of cliff, my feet slipping on the soaked ground and the salt spray stinging my tongue. As I stared at the blank expanse of water I breathed in the scent of the sea, mixed with the musty smell of the autumn forest. Standing there, I gazed, enraptured at the crashing waves below me, whose limbs reached out to touch the clouds in sparkling cascades of silver and white arrows. The wind whipped in my ears singing songs of the heavenly skies almost like an endless hymn. – Gray C.

 

The side of our kayak faced the island where the seals lay. Their heads were turned towards us, their eyes curious, and afraid. The smell of the ocean was a sharp sting to my nose. It was a windy day, and chilly, the sun stuck behind the clouds. You could barely see the seals; the shade of their pelts was the same as the rocks they lay on. There were maybe three in the water, watching us. We quietly made our way past them like mice slowed down by age, for they would move towards the water, ready to swim away at too loud a sound or the smallest movement. The waves splashing onto the rocks, the seals' heads turned towards us. It's one of the loveliest things I've ever seen. – Maya B.

 

My favourite colour was the white from the waves when they collapsed. We sat on rocks at the campsite for hours watching. It looked like an avalanche of whipped cream smacking rocks over and over again. – Hayden S.

 

The blue from the salty wild ocean, a basic colour but still beautiful. The crystal shining blue, its smooth and wavy ocean textures spreading out for miles and miles. The little ripples and crashing waves, shades of light and dark, transparent and opaque. The stillness and peace of the morning blue, reflecting light of the morning sun and the transparent blue, revealing the pebbles and seaweed of the shallow seafloor. The afternoon blue, dark and light simultaneously, hiding all kinds of secrets behind the surface of this blue ocean. The setting sun, the wild darkening blue crashing on shore, until the blue has been turned inky. I stare into the twilight evening, the reflecting moon on ocean waters gleam. – Anonymous

 

My favourite colour is yellow. Not the blazing neon kind, but the comforting smiley kind. I saw it when it dried my cold wet clothes and when it bathed my chilled and stiff body. Most of all, I saw it when two rays spilled out of the gray gloomy sky, right onto the water that was eerily calm. Seeing that yellow is like when warm honey starts melting in your mouth and coating itself down your throat. It’s like the trail that first sip of hot cocoa makes through your body after a long day of skiing. Lastly, it’s like that familiar, comforting hug your mom gives you after a bad day. This yellow is like liquid gold when surviving nature; this yellow is the sun. – Lyra L.

The scent of saltwater washed upon the sand, the sharp staggered feeling of broken seashells: my favourite thing today. CRUNCH, CRACK, CRUNCH, piercing my ears as I walk upon the plain white washed-up seashells. Each broken in different ways, not perfect but all unique. There are only so many ways to describe the colour of white seashells, but I would say it’s delicate, soft and pure. – Rachel P.