A painting was calling, but on such an unlikely day. February on the Sunshine Coast can provide bright, glorious days. But it can also bring rain, cloud and fog. I felt the urge to go looking for an image in the winter of 2004 but this February day wasn’t one of those warm and friendly ones. Bundled in my warmest fleece, and with a travel mug full of hot coffee, I drove north from Gibsons not knowing where my travel whims would take me.
The Garden Bay area has long been a summertime playground for my family. We’ve camped at Hotel Lake, enjoyed the huge ice cream cones of John Henry’s General Store and climbed many of the hills of the area. Seldom had I seen the Garden Bay in the winter though, particularly on such a slate grey day. Why was my wanderlust taking me down this road? Ever trusting of my inner voice concerning such matters, I just kept driving, watching and observing.
As I drove the shores of Garden Bay Lake, I reminisced. How many times had Melanie and Bryson, my two children, played in these waters? The rocky prominence that was their swimming ramp of so many years ago brought a smile to my face as I drove slowly along the shore. I allowed my thoughts to take me back as I drove. I could hear laughter and feel the warm sun. I saw us together as a family and longed for one more time in those comforting, carefree moments. What a special place, this Garden Bay Lake. In the family album of my imagination this is a well worn page. I realized as I drove, that I turn to the Garden Bay page often.
Then, as my thoughts came back to the focus of the day, there it was. The fogs lifted for the briefest of time and there it was. The island in the middle of the lake revealed itself and the mirror of the water created the symmetry of a perfect composition. I stopped the car and with camera in hand, scrambled down the rocky bank. With time for only a few photographs, I turned and walked back to the car. I looked back over my shoulder for one last glimpse and I saw only fog. Again, the magic of responding to something inside of me had rewarded me. As I drove home, the significance of that brief moment of clarity on the shores of Garden Bay Lake became ever more powerful. I drove home in fog and rain. Beauty is certainly in the eye of the beholder, but sometimes you have to go looking for it.
