The ocean’s largest inhabitants, such as whales, sharks and dolphins, are often the creatures that capture our imagination when we think of that vast mysterious body of water. Its smallest indwellers, though, are more than worthy of investigation. They will provide you with a nature experience steeped in diversity, wonder and almost as many colours as the rainbow.

Take a wander to the tidal pools on Chesterman beach, Tofino – located in front of Frank Island at low tide – kneel down, get close, watch for a while and enjoy a whole world in a tiny puddle of water. Little fish may swim by, a crab may suddenly appear from under the sand and disappear again. And if you see a conical shell with protruding legs scuttle by, it is probably a hermit crab. They take over abandoned shells as portable dwellings to protect their vulnerable bodies.

Clinging to the sides of the rocks you will find tightly packed rows of adaptible blue-purple mussels, who are quite happy to remain there whether the tide is in or out – just imagine spending half your day baking in the sun and dry air and the other half with waves breaking over your head! Barnacles are there too, little craggy white shell-like edifices that are actually related to crabs. Watch where you put your feet around them, though, they are sharp!

Prettiest and most colourful, probably what most of us hope to see, are anenomes, sea urchins and sea stars. Thankfully, these are all usually plentiful in Tofino. Sea urchins’ empty green round shells are sometimes seen lying on the beach, with their spines long gone. If you see one with pretty red spines still on it, be sure not to stand on it, as it may still be alive and its spines will hurt your foot like a barnacle will. If you very gently touch one of the spines with your finger, though, you will do one another no harm.

Another interesting interaction could be to very gently touch a beautiful waving green sea anenome. Feel how soft its tentacles are to a human hand. To be kind to them, though, only do this once or twice because when you touch them, they think they are about to get some food and will contract their tentacles to eat.

And lastly, there is no need to worry about finding the most loved rock pool dweller of them all. You are sure to see an orange, purple, red or pink sea star in Tofino as its rock pools are home to forty different species of starfish. And if you see one with a limb missing, there is no cause for sadness, they are blessed with an ability to regenerate their limbs.

Have fun seeing how many different and wonderful creatures you can find in Tofino’s tidal pools. Can you find one we haven’t mentioned here? We left some out on purpose, as a surprise.

Chesterman Beach in Tofino provides many large and small treasures to explore. I’ve already told you of my love for its tidal pools whose abundance shows itself at low tide – just in front of Frank Island. And as the tides roll back in Rosie Bay (the bay next to Chesterman Beach), they expose another feature in which to wander with wonderment. Rosie Bay is home to some stunning basalt sea caves.

Hundreds or thousands of years in the making, sea caves are formed by the relentless energy of waves sweeping their way over rocks day after day, physically eroding tiny bits, till eventually cracks form and widen, pieces of rock fall off and the hollowing out process of making a cave begins. At Rosie Bay, we have the privilege of seeing the results many many years on – caverns and a long fissure – stretching back from the sea into the land.

As you walk through the caves and into the fissure, shiny black backs of mussels will flank your shoulders along with any other creatures having strong enough suckers to stay attached to their home on the walls as the sea pulls right out and down to sand level. See what else you can find while you are there.

For an extra bit of enjoyment, if you are lucky enough to be in Tofino when the moon graces the night sky at low tide, the reflective basalt cave walls will provide you a magical viewing of the caves.

Last big thing to remember is check the tide timetable carefully to be certain you are out of the cave and its recesses before the tide turns. The tide will travel in fairly quickly to give those soon-to-be-happy black mussels their next generous dose of seawater hydration and you will want to be on dry land.

This month’s post is republished with kind permission of my sister, Catherine (wellnesswarrior.ie).

Although many of the references are to Irish lore and countryside, they could also be imagined in the Canadian environs, as both our countries march towards the middle of winter in the Northern hemisphere.

This is a story of An Cailleach, the great winter woman of Irish legend.

As the evenings darken and the cold settles in, An Cailleach feels especially alive in our stories again — the bringer of storms, the shaper of the land.

But behind the wildness and the weather, her story carries something deeply human: a reminder that winter has its purpose, that slowing down has power, and that wisdom often comes wrapped in weathered skin and a thick wool shawl.

An Cailleach — the veiled one, the winter queen, the ancient force of cold and change.

She’s often called the hag or the crone.

Now, I’ll admit — I’ve never loved that word hag. It feels like something you’d throw at someone who cut you off in traffic, not a title for a goddess!

But in its older Irish meaning, Cailleach comes from caillech — the veiled one.

She wasn’t an insult.

She was power. Mystery. Age. Wisdom.

She’s the grandmother energy of the land — and like many grandmothers, she doesn’t mess around😀

The Shaper of the Land

They say the Cailleach carried great stones in her apron, dropping them across Ireland to form our hills and valleys. So the next time you’re out hiking and stumble on a boulder that seems oddly placed — maybe don’t complain about the path. She probably put it there.

The Beara Peninsula in Cork is her heartland. An Cailleach Bhéarra, the Hag of Beara, is said to sit by the sea waiting for her youth to return. Some say she drinks from a magical Well of Youth each spring, renewing herself again. (Wouldn’t we all love that skincare secret?)

The Keeper of Winter

The Cailleach is winter. With a tap of her staff, she brings frost. With a swing of her cloak, the snow falls. She’s in charge of the weather — and not known for subtlety.

At Imbolc (1st February) — Brigid’s festival — the Cailleach decides how long winter will last.

If the day is bright and clear, she’s out gathering firewood to make winter stretch on.

If it’s stormy and wild, she’s stuck inside, cranky, and spring will come early.

The Cycle of the Old Woman and the Maiden

In folklore, the Cailleach’s power fades as Brigid rises — the young, fiery goddess of fertility, healing, and renewal. The two balance one another: the dark and the light, the old and the young, the frost and the flame.

Without the Cailleach’s rest, Brigid’s growth couldn’t happen. Winter makes space for spring — just as rest makes space for energy in our own lives.

What She Teaches Us

The Cailleach isn’t here to punish; she’s here to pause. She reminds us that everything — even us — needs a time of stillness, of conserving energy, of slowing down.

So instead of resisting the darker months, maybe we take a leaf out of her book:

Curl up.

Rest deeply.

Let things lie fallow.

Spring — and Brigid — will come soon enough.

This winter, can you make peace with the quiet?

Can you see rest as power?

Can you honour the wise, weathered parts of yourself — the parts that have seen many seasons and still stand strong?

The Cailleach reminds us: there’s beauty in the chill, wisdom in the stillness, and power in growing older.

The old adage “you can’t see the forest for the trees” may be lost on us nowadays, if we live and work in areas where trees are sparse or non-existent. If so, we need to find some trees; they are good for us.

Spending time in the company of trees, whether walking through a forest or sitting in the shade of a spreading tree on a hot day, has been shown to offer us humans many and long-lasting benefits.

According to Tree Canada, recent research has turned up a slew of benefits for our mental health when we commune with trees and nature.

Walking on tree-lined paths can lower fatigue, confusion, depression, bring down our stress and anxiety levels and soothe our emotions.

Studying in a treed area can enhance memory and a 2020 study found that an area with a high density of trees improved memory and dementia risk.

Japanese people have been forest bathing for centuries, a practice of spending quiet immersive time in forests and green space. Recently, it has been discovered that during forest bathing we breathe in aromatherapy chemicals which interact with our immune system and enhance the activity of NK (natural killer) cells, our first-line defence cells against viruses and cancer. Most encouraging is the finding that this effect lasts about 30 days.

Botanist and biochemist, Diana Beresford-Kruger, talks about forest bathing on her website, “Thousands of years old, it is a form of natural aromatherapy where the medicinal aerosol load changes from north to south and forest to forest. Different cultures call it different things. The Japanese call it “Shinrin-yoku.” The Irish Celts called it “Tig allais”.”

I am personally grateful for all the trees that surround us here at Tofino Hummingbird Cottage. There are numerous forests to in which to bathe, stroll, or take a vigorous hike. There are trees at the beach. There are also trees right outside the windows of Tofino Hummingbird Cottage so that, if it feels like a cozy-at-the-fireside day, we can sit inside and get all the tree benefits by just looking at them – studies have shown that works too.