squawking gulls— bloated sea lions burping herring breath The annual herring spawn is a sensory feast. A seasonal rebirth and frenzied spectacle of nature. A herring potlatch in a sea of aquamarine. The ultimate sharing of nutrients and biodiversity. It seems appropriate that “I am The Red Herring” has made its debut coinciding with this ethereal event. I am inspired and grateful. Thank you for subscribing and hopefully sharing. Those who know me, know where to find me.  My g

Saysutshun Giants Rock solid, yet so animated. Emerging from the depths, To enjoy this beautiful day. Do they see me as I paddle? A sacred place for the Snuneymuxw People. For me, the Stone Giants of Saysutshun Island Are profiles of my Mum and Dad. Transcended from Trincomali Channel. The rockweed reminds me of my Dad’s hairy back.                                The Sailer My Dad was a Sailer in the Navy. He was tall and lean and dashing in his Sailer uniform. My Mum

I like golf because I just don’t care. Which is odd because I care about a lot of things. I play nine holes, Sometimes twelve, rarely eighteen. With running or cycling or swimming, I always wanted to run faster and farther, I still keep track of every detail. With golf I don’t keep score, I would lose count. There are too many rules, So I ignore them. In spite of that, I am getting better. It’s very relaxing, And most of all, I enjoy the company. Penny Youngash

I wondered if we were compatible. I couldn't even run around the block. But I was attracted, and I couldn't say no.

It is how I express myself. That's what Art is. I am an Artist.