Once upon a time, in a land far away in wilds of British Columbia dwelt the fortunate. Forests thrived; trees reached to the sky and animals were abundant. It was a land rich, rich in natural resources; one of which was logging; not new news.
The sound of axe and handsaw, of trees falling, of whistles blowing were heard throughout the province, up and down the coast and on Vancouver Island. Throughout Desolation Sound, Sechelt Inlet and the Broughton Archipelago Jan and I have seen the imprint of times gone by.