Mount Erskine

There are two paths up the mountain and that made all the difference. Winding switchbacks, a meandering through trees, soft green moss, tinkles of a winter brook, robin trills and the high-pitched tweaking of the kinglets high above. Glimpses of blue overhead and the occasional amber leaf of a Garry Oak mark the path below my feet.




At the summit are blue skies above and blue water below. The far islands curve in an optical illusion and I can see the friendly shapes of the mountains that guard Vancouver on the mainland.


There are, the locals say, small faerie doors marking the entrance ways to trees and undercrops of rocks. This adventure will be for another time.