I wonder if poetry can be enjoyed silently--I'd always thought it needed to be read out loud. But of course it is difficult to do that in places, like on the bus. I'm headed to Centennial Square in downtown Victoria, guidebook in hand, ready to learn a bit more about my quaint hometown.

It is as it alway was; treed sidewalks escort us to the heart of the city. To think we are on an island! It is however a very large island, and this city, the capital of the province, is a dot on the tip of it. As I sit in front of my computer screen, very rarely do any groanings from the distant harbour penetrate the silence, though I do occasionally hear the blare of the ferry's whistle.