But after that hour (or so) we and four other couples settled on the no bugs, not over-watered, not under-watered, weed-free greens of Butchart for a picnic dinner and a little wine.
Butchart provided a folk music trio which we half-listened to while enjoying each other’s company and the, well, wine. The music and singing seemed cheerful in a background sort of way, even though I caught them singing “… end of the world as we know it”. Always bring wine to a folk concert, just in case.
We then moved to a fireworks viewing area and at 9:15 PM enjoyed a half-hour of really very good fireworks, not well documented here. There were, of course, the usual spectacular sky-bursting types, but there were also excellent ground level devices that moved dramatically on tracks, accompanied by strong music and singing.
At the end we grabbed our lawn chairs and blankets and walked through the darkness toward the exit. We had heard of more entertainment in other parts of the garden, but this didn’t really prepare us for what happened next: a floating apparition of a woman in a well-lit window, a halo of lights above her head, playing “Girl from Ipanema” on an organ.
Marcia and I headed on home. The others stayed for a guitar concert in another area of the park.
Judgment: Butchart Gardens rocks these days, if you go late in the afternoon on a summer Saturday, when you can enjoy the extras.
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