A Land That I Call Home

Vancouver Island isn’t just where I live, it’s where I belong.

A land that I call home
Free for me to roam
Its coastlines of stone
To mountains throne

I love not the fuel,
I do not love the rain,
I have no heart for tool,
But the alpine calls my name

The vehicle I call my own
Darkest green perfect home
Wheels became my roots
Through temperate rainforest routes

Ragged breath follows
Like my shadow upon the soil
My footsteps echo in the hollows
Like the heartbeat from my toil

Push past the brush, the trees, the rivers
Boulders and talus remain
The horizon burns and the mountain shivers
Deepest orange and indigo paint sky and sea

A sight so beautiful,
Familiar colors on a new scene
I belong in the mountains,
But I kayak the seas
I am an alpine hiker,
And I swim the lakes

Because the land that I roam
Is intentionally where I call home



Vancouver Island is a place of contradictions, temperate rainforests and alpine peaks, rocky coastlines and sheltered bays. My truck (“The Mothership,” as my friends call it) has taken me to much of it, and I’m still discovering new corners.