Скачать или смотреть Chasing Puffins, Finding Stillness

The vlog begins in a quiet chair shaped like a puffin. It’s one of those subtle, unexpected moments that sets the tone before a day begins—a playful seat, a pause to breathe, a soft laugh between miles. We’re still in Newfoundland, still exploring the coast, but today’s journey unfolds in layers: stone, sea, wind, and distance. What starts with a simple chair quickly turns into a day spent chasing lighthouses, cliffs, and birds that vanish before you can catch them on film.First stop: Stones Beach. A rugged shoreline carved by time. The kind of place where every rock feels placed by intention, every wave a reminder that nature doesn’t hurry. We walk across the terrain slowly, letting our feet read the ground. The ocean beside us never stops speaking—pulling back, pushing forward, always steady.From there, we head to Bay Bulls, where the lighthouse stands watch over the coast. It’s not a dramatic scene—no music, no voiceover—just the kind of still frame that lives in your memory long after you leave. The wind moves fast. The grass leans with it. The path to the lighthouse is quiet, and somehow, that silence becomes the language of the day.But we don’t stop there.Next, we hike to Ferryland Lighthouse. Fourteen miles, roundtrip. It’s the kind of distance that doesn’t seem so long when you’re walking toward something you believe in. The trail winds through hills and ridgelines, past wildflowers and open sky. It’s not easy. Your legs burn. The wind sharpens. But with each step, there’s a kind of clarity. A kind of freedom. Some hikes are just exercise. Others feel like memory in real time. This one was both.And just when we think the day has already given us everything it had to offer, we drive further down the coast to Cape Race. A place as remote as it is beautiful. There, in the fading light, we spot what we came for—puffins. Perched on the cliffs, darting across the water, moving faster than any camera can catch. They were hard to find. We wouldn’t have even known where to look if it weren’t for a friendly Canadian from the Forest Service who pointed us in the right direction. That kind of kindness—unscripted, unprompted—is what keeps travel feeling human. It’s not just the places that make a trip. It’s the people who pass through it with you.This vlog isn’t loud. It doesn’t ask for your attention. It just unfolds—coastal scene by coastal scene, hike by hike, view by view. There’s no big moment, no dramatic ending. Just the steady unfolding of a day well spent. A reminder that presence is built step by step. And that some of the best days end without fanfare—just tired legs, full lungs, and the quiet satisfaction of being somewhere you’ve never been.The Stoics believed that the path to peace was paved through motion—not frantic chasing, but intentional walking. “The whole future lies in uncertainty: live immediately,” Seneca once said. That quote lingers with me on hikes like this. We never know exactly what we’ll find. But we show up anyway. We follow the trail. We look out over the edge. We take the next step.This vlog is for anyone who’s ever felt the pull of the horizon. For those who believe lighthouses aren’t just buildings, but symbols. For the ones who find joy in walking with no agenda except to see what’s out there. It’s a reminder that even in a world of fast answers and instant uploads, there’s still value in the long route. The slow hike. The missed puffin. The conversation with a stranger. The kind of day you feel, not just film.

You’re always welcome in this space.— Christopher