Dreaming of Dominion Brook Park
by Beth McCormick
There are certain things that the best dreams are made of. Wandering in green open spaces, glancing upwards to the vision of flocks of robins gathering, hearing the gentle sounds of a shy little creek flowing through the rocky terrain, or being small under a magical forest of grandiose blossoms filled with pure colour…hmm.
Only in our dreams, you say. I have a secret to share and one that doesn’t need a dreamy head laying on a pillow to appear. It is called Dominion Brook Park (link here) and it truly exists in our real time dimension. Let me explain.
As long-term residents of icy cold windy winters in Edmonton, a life change brought us to Vancouver Island and left us inhaling damp rain scented air and seeing nature’s colour palette long before our typical Prairie Spring thaw. Leaving Edmonton to have a three-year sojourn in North Saanich was akin to waking from a frozen existence and stepping into a dreamland and Dominion Brook Park was my first awakening to a splendid state of bliss.
I remember the day well. After passing a wooden sign a couple of times, I finally ventured into the park alone. The good luck gnomes of wanderlust grabbed me by surprise that day because I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
A narrow path under the boughs of a giant cedar tree led to a massive oak reaching for the sky with great branches. It was at this point that I became lost in an experience of awe, splendour, colour, freshness and pure delight. The immediate openness of the vista was as striking as it was unexpected! It made my eyes expand to the sky and retract like a microscope to close ups of the tiniest flower buds, then to far away views of the turquoise ocean. So real, yet surreal.
My unannounced intrusion did not faze the foliage and the blossoms as they peeked around playfully, gently brushing against my skin, giving me a welcome I never expected. Giant trees like I have never befriended before gently swayed above me. As my gaze traveled from their huge bark-covered trunks to the tiny branch-ends with newly hatched leaves, my frozen brain began to thaw.
Yes, there are parks, but some are truly magical – the ones where you can hear children’s laughter mingling with the sounds of bygone sophisticated picnics from long ago amongst the rustle of bushes. DBP is one of those places. Several small paths open into lovely pockets of serenity – heaps of flowers, curlicue branches, tall fronds and wispy leaves abound. Closer to the ground, the tiny spring blossoms popping up in a game of show and tell. And so much more.
When I walked into a mossy shelter, I saw a notice posted. It was weathered but I saw the words ‘Volunteers Needed’. With my phone, I snapped a picture and continued my journey. The eclectic foliage fascinated me. There are not many plants that grow so willingly in Edmonton!
After a while, I stopped and sat under a giant conifer, too overwhelmed to do anything else. Surprising me out of my reverie, a small happy pup came zooming in to inspect my presence. HAH! What a cutie with his delicious bounce and soft ears. I can’t remember his name, but he was a wee rescue pup from far away and had embraced wholeheartedly his new home. Just as I did. My stored antics of joy were unleashed as the pup and I decided to play chase in and around a shady damp forest. Only then did I realize that we were being spied on by a barred owlet. That was quite something!
Softly stepping on a spring grassy slope, I noticed peeking communities of purple bluebells that seemed to be sharing quaint secrets of excitement in the long grasses. Further ahead the grove of camellia trees, with their beautiful rich colours and heavy blossoms, was resting quietly in the shade. I couldn’t resist kissing a camellia on her blooming pink lips. How can nature’s artists offer so much perfection!!
Then more meandering, following the moist air down a stone stairway with mossy grass edges which were filled with tiny arms of sweet succulents. A lush pond, where the tranquility was only broken by the splashy sound of duck paddles. The rhododendrons reached over to cover it with the soft sweetness of their vividly coloured blossoms. Even a wee turtle poked its nose up!
But wait, there’s yet another change of scenery! A soft-spoken swish of many more trees laden with blossoms to my left, and below them a rustic stone wall hiding a gem! The sunken garden. Lovely beyond compare. A miniature sanctuary of calm, misty coolness and tranquility. Sitting on the stone bench admiring the surroundings for minutes that pass by ever so sneakily, the Zen one seeks feels so much within reach.
Moving along the path of ornate otherworldly plants, I went around a ledge that overlooked the creek. I was smitten by nature’s magical fairies that created the magnificent bright faced rhododendrons lining the intimate path along with their silent bamboo friends who guarded the quiet surroundings with long shiny leaves.
Remembering the photo snapped of the flyer in the mossy cabin, I sat down on a wooden bench and pondered. Volunteers needed. Say no more.
And that’s how I joined a collaborative force of hard working, tool packing, glove wearing happy gardeners who gave freely of their time to help the park flourish to its finest form. Those mornings were always met with interesting chatter, stories, and then getting down to business. Our expert leaders sent us off in pairs or groups, and even as a solitaire on occasion. What needed to be done was assigned and with tools in gloved hands, we found ourselves lost in gleeful, honest, and captivating stories, while attending to the precious details of gardening. There is something strange that happens when you combine a group of strangers to garden together. The walls of being guarded fade away as the sunshine and shadows move through the park and joyful friendships arise.
But even this magnificence is prone to cracks that can weaken the soul of this charming place. Dominion Brook Park has some protective immunity, but certain occurrences cannot go unmentioned. There was the day when the sky above opened and filled the delicate stream with a deluge of the atmospheric river that swept newly rooting plants away, while the ferocious windy bursts snapped long armed branches. Then there was the heat of a summer drought which left many green leaf smiles fading, along with dry cracks of earth that were adopted by wasps. And even though the park joyfully hosts many four-legged furry friends and their humans, they often leave offending remains laying around in piles for others to pick up.
As I write this, I am back in Edmonton on a chilly February day. No green to be seen. I find myself pulling my many layers closer as I navigate precarious icy patches through the cement wind tunnels of the dark morning downtown. At least I know I will always have the meandering memories of unprecedented colours and the many delights of an enchanting park to idle upon. Dominion Brook Park, I thank you for allowing me to use all my senses and to work within your beauty. I will always follow you in my dreamland.
