See what my lens and language uncovered over this one beautiful August long weekend on the coast.

By Olivia — August 1st–4th, 2025

The long weekend arrived like a shimmering wave, thick with heat and humming with possibility. August had barely begun, and already the air felt golden and stretched — a warm invitation to lean in, slow down, and fall in love with everything again.

I wrapped up work early Friday with the kind of to-do list that feels aggressively unromantic: chores, yardwork, glue. The kayak needed sealing, the garden needed tending, and the camera — believe it or not — stayed sleeping in its bag. No photos. No spark. Yet.

But the evening held a soft reprieve: dancing downtown with the youngest. Music, motion, messy joy. I even got some editing done amidst the giggles and feet tapping. Not a bad trade.

Saturday: Maps, Cameras & a Paddle to Little Mexico

By 9 AM Saturday, I’d scooped up Elizabeth and we were off — crafting a handmade birthday card for sweet Carson, turning Marge podge and shells into love. Afterward, the marina called to me like a lighthouse for the soul, and I wandered among vintage treasures until I unearthed a treasure chest of my own: a 1960s map of B.C. and a 1930s camera — complete with its original cardboard box it comes in from the manufacturer, paperwork, and yes, it still works. For less than thirty bucks, I’d stepped back in time.

Still no photos. But something was brewing.

With the kayak loaded and the sun high, I pushed off from Goose Spit and glided toward that sandy edge the locals call Little Mexico. The water shimmered like a promise, and I paddled past festival crowds and salt-stung breeze. It felt like drifting through a painting.

By evening, I returned — boat rinsed, arms aching, soul full — and climbed the long staircase up the bluff just in time to catch the sunset. The moon rose behind me like an old friend.

And then… magic.mi

At the foot of the stairs, a blue heron stood, utterly still, like a poem balancing on one leg. It let me come closer — closer than I’ve ever been to one. I snapped frame after frame, then paused, adjusted to sport mode, waited. It took off in a sweeping arc of feathers, and I caught it mid-flight, mid-dream. The shot I didn’t know I was waiting for.

Thursday Flashback: A Kingfisher’s Game

Earlier that week, I’d wandered down to Seal Bay to test the light. Silly me brought only my medium lens. Every time, I do that — I regret it.

Because there, on the shore, was a sound — not quite bird, not quite wind. Sharp. Electric. A Kingfisher. Rare, elusive, almost mythic in how hard they are to capture. I chased it for two hours, up and down the beach, playing cat-and-mouse with wings. It would climb to impossible heights, then dive like a missile into the waves before vanishing.

Click. Gone. Click. Gone again.

And yet, for all its trickery, it taught me to look sharper. To wait. To move slower. There was another heron down the shore that night too — like an echo of what was to come.

Sunday: Balsamic Brunch & Wandering Feet

Sunday came like a lullaby. I stopped at Superstore, filled my bag with eggs, zucchini, and eggplant, then made a balsamic-roasted brunch that tasted like smoke and sunshine — vegetables caramelized to perfection, drizzled over soft eggs.

Then I walked. And walked. Lewis Park to 5th Street and back, and further still. A two-hour meander beneath cottonwood trees, the kind of solo wandering that clears cobwebs from the soul. No photos that day. Just breath. Just being.

Monday: Parades, Serendipity & the Shot of a Lifetime

Monday was no longer a weekend — it was a love letter to everything.

I picked up Elizabeth early, Highland costume in tow, as she was to dance in the Nautical Days parade. After dropping her off, I wandered through town toward my photography spot — and stumbled, wonderfully, into the Comox Valley Collective.

This magical little shop-slash-magazine curates art, stories, and creators from the Valley, with walls that glow with local talent. I walked in and felt like I’d found my people. I gathered details on how to be part of it — and tucked that dream in my pocket for later.

The parade passed in a whirl of plaid and smiles. My lens caught it all: the movement, the color, the brief glints of emotion that flicker between people when they’re watching something together. And oh, the light was just right.

Later, we slipped into the park to explore the festival — delicious food, charming vendors, and local music. My heart swelled hearing Easy Street Trio again — a couple whose harmonies could make a cynic weep. She on guitar, he on electric upright bass (yes, upright!). Turns out, he once opened for Kid Rock and now crafts dairy-free chocolates at Sweet Treats. You can taste the love in both.

Moonrise Over the Marina

As night fell, Elizabeth went home to her mama for fireworks. I picked up a sandwich and wandered toward the marina again, this time meeting Jade and Tagen for the show. I sat, eating under stars, listening to the dreamy notes of Tromboseo’s live set drift across the water.

And then — fate.

A flash of blue. A shriek. A Kingfisher flew past me. I grabbed my camera and followed, breath held. Not one, but two. Darting between boats, landing on posts, teasing me with their choreography.

And this time? I got them.

Shot after shot. Wings mid-beat. Beaks tilted toward the horizon. They danced for me. My weekend was complete.&

Tripod set. Sky full of sparks. The fireworks launched around 10:15, glittering through the soft fog. I shot long exposures, heart bursting. O Canada played. My camera clicked. We stayed until the last ember fell.

I got home close to midnight, traffic snaking slowly out of town, the kind of exhausted that feels like you did it right.

And I did.

This weekend? It was a love story — to nature, to art, to those brief shimmering moments when everything aligns: the light, the feathers, the laughter, the song.

Until next time, dear reader. The tide is calling again.

xo, Olivia

Hikers Photography — where slugs are queer, herons are royalty, and every weekend holds a little magic.

P.S.

Feeling inspired? You can see the very best of the best phots from my hikes, paddles, coastal wanderings and adventures over at www.thehikersphotography.com. Every image you’ve just read about — and more — is waiting for you in the galleries.

✨ Each print is available for purchase, professionally captured and ready to bring a little wild magic into your home. Dive in, explore, and take home your next conversation piece today. 🌿📷