My last night on Haida Gwaii ended at 5:45AM, when I awoke from a dream I had complete control over, scaring myself with what I, a dreamer, am capable of.

At breakfast a guest offered to drive me to the airport. While waiting for him outside I unpacked my ukulele and performed an impromptu concert for the couples I had dined with the night before. A nice way to say goodbye.

On the flight to Haida Gwaii I sat on the west side of the plane, and saw nothing. But yesterday, because I sat on the east side, and because the sky was cloudless, I saw inlets, snowcapped ridges, granite faces, cirques, turquoise lakes, trees, logging roads, power lines, winding rivers, oxbows, beaches…

And now I am home, surrounded by smog and hot weather, my tomatoes huge, my grapes a week away. Nothing died in the garden, nor was anything stolen.

After twelve days on Haida Gwaii I see my garden differently, thankful for the soil, so rich and plentiful, and as always for what is possible. Maybe next time I visit I will do so at the other end of the year, see how dark it gets.